The Watchmen of Hertfordshire
by Gaskellian
Summary: There is a secret group of vigilantes that protect Hertfordshire and it's law-abiding citizens. Nobody knows who they are but everybody wants to - especially the criminals. This is an E&D story and will have an HEA. I make no promises as to the other pairings.
1. Chapter 1

**A scene popped into my head one night and then a story began to form around it. So here it is and be prepared - it kind of follows canon and it kind of doesn't. Let me know what you think!**

 **2016 © Gaskellian**

 **All rights reserved.**

It was commonly known that the county of Hertfordshire was a locale of country vistas and more temperate weather than those counties of the north; what was of lesser renown – but whispered of in many circles – was the relative safety to be had whilst journeying or dwelling within the confines of its borders. There were rumors regarding an avenging band of citizens who patrolled the roads and towns to ensure security, although the precise size of said group was yet unknown. Grateful travelers saw naught but cloaks and horses; they were, thus, unable to provide such details in which a curious public might take delight. Highwaymen, however, had quite a different opinion. They were, similar to the rest of the populace, wondering as to the identities of these adventurers but only in order that these individuals might be eliminated as barriers to the lucrative trade of brigandry. Unfortunately for those criminals, but not for the innocent citizenry, the most advantageous view to be had of these stalwart riders tended to be as they struck down one engaged in wrong-doing.

The protection of these brave souls extended beyond patrolling their thoroughfares; they were also instrumental in preventing a great number of assaults upon females. The sources of their information were dubious but the results were rather spectacular. With this vast amount of undisclosed knowledge, it was certain that intrepid individuals would exert themselves to discover such valuable intelligence.

In Meryton and at Longbourn estate, the peace was felt as strongly as any other site in Hertfordshire. The Bennet family, both parents and every one of their five daughters, was seated at dinner – with much enthusiasm, it should be noted, for there was little done quietly in Longbourn – and conversing upon their respective news. Lydia was excitedly describing to Kitty her latest idea for bonnet trimming, while Mrs. Bennet was happily holding forth on the subject of the neighborhood's upcoming assembly. Mr. Bennet was one of the few seated at the table capable of consuming the food before him, as he preferred to observe than to speak.

The dining room door opened and admitted their neighbor's daughter and Elizabeth's particular friend, Charlotte Lucas; she begged forgiveness for her abrupt arrival.

'Mrs. Bennet, I do hope that you will pardon my sudden appearance but my cousin had sent a letter on which I must have Eliza's advice.'

In her animated fashion, Mrs. Bennet replied, 'Oh, Charlotte, you are welcome to her help. Lizzy, you are finished your meal, are you not? Good. Then you may accompany Charlotte. I shall be up shortly in case you are in need of any guidance.' With a wave, she dismissed the young women to their consultation.

Elizabeth smiled at her friend and the two withdrew. It was not many minutes later that they heard footsteps upon the stairs and Mrs. Bennet appeared in the doorway of Elizabeth's bedroom. As she locked the door behind her carefully, her demeanor completely changed. There was neither lightness nor silliness present; her air was perfectly serious and that of a person accustomed to their words being obeyed.

'You are both ready?' At two nods of agreement, she continued, 'Charlotte, who is with you?'

Charlotte answered readily, 'My brother is outside, waiting, and we are to meet two others on our arrival.' Mrs. Bennet approved and the girls were given permission to leave.

Before opening the door, however, Mrs. Bennet placed her hands on Elizabeth's shoulders and gazed directly at her. 'You will take care.'

Elizabeth smiled. 'Yes, Mama.'

Turning, the elder woman murmured, 'May you both return unharmed.' She unlocked the door to the bedroom, opened it and began to loudly disclaim to any in hearing about how grand friendship was for avoiding loneliness and why Elizabeth should count herself fortunate to have the freedom to remain over the night at the Lucas' home.

Meanwhile, Elizabeth and Charlotte silently slipped down the servant's stairs and disappeared into the night.

At the next day's lunch, Lydia noisily exclaimed, 'I heard that _those_ men were seen only last night in Wheathampstead. Oh, so close to Longbourn. . . . . .' Wheathampstead itself was but a quiet village, not five miles from Meryton. From her manner of speech, it was evident that the fifteen year old was pining for the mysterious men who permitted girls similar to herself the luxury of a serene existence.

With marked enthusiasm, Kitty inquired, 'Did you learn what occurred? Was this yet another robbery? Did they have to kill anyone?' The topic was patently one of much interest in a house of five daughters – to have _such_ a thing happen and in such close proximity to their home. There could be no other subject broached that could claim the smallest portion of the mystique laid at the feet of these shadowy figures.

Unlike their youngest sisters, Elizabeth and her elder sister, Jane, ate their meal, silently listening to the conversation. Mrs. Bennet was quite as vocal as usual, querying about that detail and had Lydia overheard this story amongst the servants or in another place? She appeared as moved by the story as any young girl, sighing over the descriptions given of the handsome men who had routed an evil person, preying on naïve young girls.

'They are better even than officers. Any fellow with a bit of money can purchase a commission but these men have no need of such artifice; their deeds weigh more heavily than any uniform.' Thus saying, Mrs. Bennet then reminded her daughters that the Lucases were to call soon and they should remove themselves to the sitting room before long.

Lady Lucas arrived, full of the latest information on the self-appointed Watchmen of Hertfordshire. She and Mrs. Bennet sat together, examining the story, while Maria had placed herself between Kitty and Lydia, her particular friends and of a like age to herself. They three were excitedly reviewing every scrap of intelligence known to them and occasionally questioned the older women if they had, in fact, been aware of some certain specifics.

Mary, Jane, Elizabeth and Charlotte looked on their younger sisters with amusement. Of these ladies, though they might be as titillated as another over those enigmatic persons, their interest did not express itself in a similar manner.

'I fear, 'Jane began, 'that we shall not see the end of such talk until these men make themselves known to all. Mystery does fuel gossip.'

Charlotte replied, 'You would not find me disagreeing on that point. I would, however, add that if they choose to wed, _then_ we shall hear no more of the topic.'

Laughing, Elizabeth concurred but amended, 'If they choose to marry and permit society to know of their marriages, then there will be silence. For if none were to be aware of their lack of availability, what good would come of it? No, they must advertise in all the papers of their having entered the state of matrimony before there will be silence on the subject.'

Mary asked, 'Bravery should be its own reward; why, then, would their acts of courage not be as impressive if they were married?' Despite her eighteen years, Mary had not gained an appreciation for the romantic and was wont to examine most circumstances in a rather narrow fashion. This unimaginative tendency did not make her any less capable of rational thought, although it did minimize the importance placed upon her company in the eyes of their somewhat limited society.

'Your reasoning is sound,' answered Elizabeth, 'but your comprehension of feminine nature is not. There are a great many ladies who would swoon at the sight of a handsome hero galloping on his trusted steed; conversely, I would believe that there are not a small number of women who would be unaffected. You, Mary, are a prudent creature. I am afraid that my love of adventure and excitement precludes my inclusion in that group. Jane, Charlotte, in which category would you place yourselves?'

Jane conjectured that she was but a simple person and, much as shrewdness was well thought of, she could not profess a wish to be considered part of either faction. Charlotte, however, was of the opinion that she could ill afford to ignore circumspection and caution; she was, therefore, of a piece with Mary in her grouping.

It was at that moment that the young ladies heard Mrs. Bennet cry, 'Netherfield is to be let at last and to a young man of large fortune! Such fine news - he will likely hold parties and balls with many eligible single men, who might be agreeable enough to fall in love with our girls.'

Lady Lucas provided the name of the gentleman in question: he was Mr. Bingley and hailed from the north of England. This young man was to take possession within the month and, to his credit, he was to bring a large party down with him immediately. If he were to prove himself handsome, as well, then he would certainly present himself as the perfect neighbor.


	2. Chapter 2

Mr. Bingley was come. There was no discussion in Meryton that neglected to canvass either his fortune or his lack of a wife; the former would assuredly assist him in correcting the latter.

'Mr. Bennet!' exhorted his wife several days hence, 'Have you yet called upon Mr. Bingley? Sir William and Lady Lucas have determined to go, for the sake of their girls; you must think of your daughters. It will be impossible for _us_ to visit him if you do not.'

There were many more words spoken, by both Mr. Bennet and Mrs. Bennet, whose result was that the Master of Longbourn was required to admit that he had, indeed, done his duty to his offspring, and gone earlier that day to call upon Mr. Bingley.

Later that afternoon, while the ladies were arrayed in the drawing room, each busy in their occupations, a note arrived for Mr. Bennet. It was from Netherfield. Mr. Bingley requested an audience with Mr. Bennet, if he would find it convenient, on the next morning, for the courtesy of the older man's visit must be returned. Mrs. Bennet and Lydia were alight with excitement – they should know how the man looked and, perhaps, could invite him to dinner one evening. It was a small step from a dinner invitation to his certainly falling in love with one of the Bennet young ladies.

Sadly, the much awaited call occurred at such an hour that naught but his person were seen from an upper window. Had he been aware of the great disappointment brought by his promptness to five lovely ladies, Mr. Bingley would unquestionably have subscribed for a day to tardiness, as he was equally dispirited by not having viewed these same young women, about whom he had heard quite pleasing reports.

There was nothing better to assuage the grief of having not made his acquaintance than a trip into Meryton, where purchases could be made. Elizabeth had been tasked by Mrs. Bennet with seeing her sister, Mrs. Phillips, and delivering a note; the girls were, therefore, to take refreshments at their aunt's before returning home.

In keeping with her habits, Mrs. Phillips had greeted her nieces effusively, offering some sustenance and, on their leave-taking, handed a small package to be given to Mrs. Bennet. Elizabeth knew not the contents of the parcel but was accustomed to acting as a messenger between the two sisters.

As they five walked in the direction of Longbourn, Lydia and Kitty waxed vociferous and long on the scarcity of news – there had been no fresh actions by the Watchmen and their girls' hearts were grieved at the want of excitement. Jane and Mary were conversing about the healing properties of a specific plant that was especially abundant in their environs, as Elizabeth walked slightly ahead, thinking of her next practice session, for one could not become a great proficient without much practice.

On arriving home, the ladies separated to their individual pursuits; Elizabeth heard her name being called.

'Elizabeth! You and your sisters are returned from walking, I see. It appears that today you will not be punished to remain indoors for long - your mother wishes you to accompany her on a few visits, for I believe that Jane went the last time.' Mr. Bennet appeared amused on conveying his message and withdrew directly to his library.

Mrs. Bennet soon found her second eldest and, after receiving and securing the package from Mrs. Phillips, they left. Their destination was not terribly far, but the way was well-guarded by hidden turns and curtains of vines; the building was soon in sight. It was an old, long-abandoned structure that might have been a barn or storage house in years past; trees had encroached on the surrounding clearing and vines had made their home on its walls, but the structure remained sound and had a sufficient expanse of open floor for their purposes.

Elizabeth could hear the sound of metal hitting metal; it was fortunate that the clanging travelled no further than a few yards from the edifice. Mother and daughter entered and were not surprised to note two others already present – they were the source of the metallic noises.

Mrs. Bennet called, 'Charlotte! Eldon! Please cease for a moment and draw near, so that we may speak.'

In a quieter tone, she continued, 'I received today information about a fellow who is bringing trouble to Hemel Hempstead. He is a great danger; your contact will guide you to the person in question. The magistrate has attempted to imprison him but the fellow has escaped several times and done grave damage to both people and property – he must be dispatched. You leave at nightfall.'

Receiving their nods of understanding, the Mistress of Longbourn then inquired as to recent exercises implemented to increase their skills and a demonstration of most excellent swordsmanship followed. Elizabeth and Mrs. Bennet shortly resumed their purported journey and re-entered their home, with the older woman loudly calling for Hill and demanding whether dinner was to be served promptly.

Although the two eldest Bennet sisters had always been most intimate friends, two years past Mrs. Bennet had seen fit to exchange Elizabeth for Mary in the girls' bedroom, explaining that Jane's beauty and sweetness of nature could not but influence Mary. As Elizabeth insisted on trying her mother's nerves and disregarding decorum, bringing mud and dirt in at all hours of the day, she was duly installed in a smaller room in close proximity to the servant's stairs. None contradicted this dictate and, as Mrs. Bennet had been in high dudgeon on this very topic, none dared to question her reasoning.

As a result, it was simplicity itself for Elizabeth to, unbeknownst to most of the home's occupants, soundlessly descend the rear steps and exit Longbourn – and to avoid undesirable questions about unexplained absences and odd hours of slumber. Her nonappearance occasionally necessitated a fabrication as to her whereabouts; therefore, her sisters were accustomed to Elizabeth's early morning excursions and, due to her being a great walker, frequent conveyance of necessary messages to others of the neighborhood.

'Mrs. Bennet! Have you yet heard?! There was another _sighting_ last night!' Mrs. Long was sure that her legs could not have moved any faster to ensure her timely arrival at the Bennet's home; she had wanted to be the first to inform the family.

'Oh!' cried Lydia, 'Where were they seen? What happened? You must tell us!'

Mrs. Bennet rushed over to learn more, exclaiming, 'Oh my! I just _knew_ that it would be soon. Such brave men! What have you heard?'

'It happened in Hemel Hempstead. The night was full dark but people say they could hear the galloping from afar; it sounded like a thunderstorm approaching. I was told there was a man named Mr. Peale and he had been responsible for destroying merchandise from several store keepers', along with – ah, _bothering_ some of the girls of the town. They even,' and here Mrs. Long lowered her tone, 'they even hint that he might have **killed** a person!'

The gasps from her attentive audience were all that she might have hoped, but she had one last point to impart.

'This Peale was found dead – stabbed to death! The magistrate wishes to meet these men and _thank_ them for their assistance. To thank them! Oh, I must go – Mrs. Cheetham had asked me to call this morning.' With that pretense, Mrs. Long hastened to take her leave and further disseminate her knowledge, allowing the Bennets to assimilate that which had been so rapidly told.

To his chagrin, Mr. Bingley had been required to decline an invitation to dine at Longbourn, citing a need to travel to London on the morrow; however, most residents of Meryton expected him to return shortly. There was to be an assembly and, if rumors were true, Mr. Bingley was to bring with him a large party, though none was certain of the precise number of ladies and gentlemen. On his party's entering the assembly room, there were many who sighed in relief at the sight of Mr. Bingley and only four who accompanied him.

The young man was quite amiable and pleased to become acquainted with the principal people in the room. He was introduced to the Bennets and straightaway requested a dance with Miss Bennet, thus winning the rather vocal good favor of the lady's mother, before remembering himself and presenting his sisters, his brother and his friend.

The taller gentleman, Mr. Darcy, had a look of shock upon his countenance but for a moment, before bowing and taking his leave. He asked not one of Mrs. Bennet's daughters to dance and withdrew to a corner, silently observing the room's other occupants.

Before moving on, Mr. Bingley exclaimed, 'Mrs. Bennet, I am very pleased to have met you and your family. A friend had recommended the name of Bennet to me as a family with whom to become acquainted. It has been my pleasure and, as we are now neighbors, we shall assuredly be in company. An enjoyable evening to you!' Off he moved to meet further individuals.

Elizabeth had taken note of Mr. Darcy's surprise and Mr. Bingley's words; she determined that, for a reason unfathomable to her, _Mr. Darcy_ had been the friend to suggest Mr. Bingley's connection with her family. She also recognized that her mother had likely perceived the same and Mrs. Bennet would be puzzling over the occurrence.

As there was a scarcity of gentlemen, Elizabeth was obliged to sit out for two dances, which she did without rancor for those who were partnered. Mr. Darcy had moved during the course of the evening and migrated about the edge of the venue; he was currently standing not ten feet from Elizabeth, facing the dancers. Mr. Bingley advanced toward his friend during a lull, in order that he should persuade the taller fellow to join the dance.

'Darcy, you must dance. It would look entirely odd for you to avoid the exercise, aside from my sisters, for the whole assembly. There are such a great many lovely ladies present; why, there is one of the Bennet sisters. You had desired to encounter them and here is an excellent opportunity to have discussion with one of them.' Mr. Darcy patently was uncomfortable with the younger man's speech, as he immediately moved to silence his friend.

'Bingley, I cannot. It appears that my information was inaccurate with regards to the family and it would be a punishment to entertain such insipidity. I plan to investigate more thoroughly in the morning. For the moment, leave me to my solitude.'

For Elizabeth to say that she was diverted would be untrue – she was not; she was, however, exceedingly vexed. The insult to self was ignored, for now, in her indignation at his presumption. He had so rudely dismissed one that he willingly called friend, what condescension should _she_ expect, as one wholly unconnected to him? Elizabeth was in need of her mother's counsel, but that could not be in a venue as public as this. She, therefore, took what comfort was possible and exited the busy room in favor of a dark and quiet balcony, for calm was not to be found amongst the dancers.

She stood motionless, considering what had been said, as well as that which had not, and consequently, was unaware that she was no longer the sole occupant of the balcony. Her companion had noticed her stillness of attitude but would not credit it to intelligence; he preferred to interpret her manner as simplicity of mind.

'Miss Bennet? May I help you regain the assembly room?' inquired he. She must surely be lost to persist out of doors.

Elizabeth was agitated at his presence and replied, 'I thank you for your concern but have no desire yet to go inside. I would not wish to be a cause of distress for your party, if you were to remain here for my sake. Please do not delay your return on my account.'

She turned from him to continue her meditations, hoping that he would withdraw. Her wishes were not to be fulfilled. He gently took her arm and endeavored to steer her toward the balcony doors; she began to pull her arm from him, preparing to undertake action of more consequence, should he not release her.

The doors to the balcony opened and just as rapidly shut. A low voice, frightening in its command and coldness, forced him to step away from the young woman. It was Mrs. Bennet and her ire was impossible to be missed.

'Mr. Darcy! You may call at Longbourn tomorrow, as early in the morn as you are able. Do not neglect this appointment, else you be labeled a man who disturbs the peace of ladies – and you would not wish to be called such in this neighborhood.'


	3. Chapter 3

Mr. Darcy came, at the order of Mrs. Bennet, quite early; so soon in the day, in fact, that only a few in the Bennet house were yet awake. He had been shown to Mr. Bennet's study, where the two men spoke for a full half of an hour before requesting Mrs. Bennet's presence. Her approach was audible to the two men.

'Oh my, what _could_ Mr. Bennet be needing at this early hour? After such a lovely assembly, it is much more pleasant to remain abed than to run about. I do so hope that my girls are yet asleep.' With such a cloud of comments preceding her, Mrs. Bennet stepped into her husband's private room. Before becoming silent, she slid the rubber coated, metal plate over the keyhole, attached for just this purpose.

As their guest was not accustomed to her true self, the transformation from a silly, chattering matron to the severity of one who makes frequent decisions of extreme gravity was quite disconcerting.

'Sir. Your actions of last night were indefensible and I expect a proper apology to be made to my daughter. Regardless of your situation, you appear to be in the habit of assuming ill of new acquaintances – or perhaps it is only those of lesser income and station? You maligned my daughter; you disparaged my family and believed us unintelligent and foolish. Would you have us judge you solely by your externals and actions; thus assuming that you are an unprincipled but very wealthy man?' She stopped speaking and stared at Mr. Darcy in emphasis of her point.

On seeing a look of contrition on his countenance, she resumed, 'You may begin, before we progress further, by acknowledging to Elizabeth the fault in your behavior and making amends. If you cannot, then our business is concluded.' She waved to a corner of Mr. Bennet's study and Elizabeth moved toward her mother, out of the shadows;

Darcy had noticed neither her entrance nor her presence until now, which rather discomposed him. He did pride himself on his observant nature and this fresh example of his lack in this particular area caused him to renew his distress, which did nothing to improve his mood, only assuring that he would give insult.

'Miss Bennet, allow me to express my regrets on having offended you at the assembly.' This was spoken in a direct and calm tone with little sincerity to be heard. Mrs. Bennet was not satisfied but Elizabeth requested permission to speak.

Smiling sardonically at the tall gentleman, she replied, 'I accept your sentiments as they were given, sir. If you would care to amend that statement in the future, it would not be amiss and no insult would be taken.'

Mrs. Bennet resumed, 'I shall suppose that Mr. Bennet has answered any questions that you may have thus far and therefore, must inquire: What is your purpose in seeking us out? Mr. Bingley had admitted to your encouraging him in the direction of Hertfordshire, so I understand that you intended to seek out our family. For what reason?' There was only cold civility in her voice. If Mr. Darcy wished a warm welcome, he must earn the right to such.

The great man sat, unspeaking and still. His purpose in seeking out the Watchmen was to right a terrible wrong; one that had been perpetrated against his own family. How was he to expose himself and his dearest relation to those wholly unconnected with him? He could not deny, however, that he _had_ travelled to this precise location, hopeful that there might yet be a solution, one which this family might provide.

After several moments more of thought, Mr. Darcy began to explain. 'As this discussion is of a sensitive nature and pertaining quite closely to those whom I hold dear, I must request your complete confidence in these matters. There is a fellow with whom I grew up, an apparently amiable gentleman of engaging manners. His father was a most trustworthy manager of our property and all of its estates. As we grew, the son's nature became more known to me, a lad of similar age, as one of immorality and vicious propensities. My excellent father had respected the father and, thus, was inclined positively toward the son. There were multiple instances, too numerous and unpleasant to mention, where the son had shown himself to be a creature of the lowest character. About five years ago, my father passed away. He had left in his will that, in the case of this fellow taking up the clergy, the living nearest my estate should be proffered to this young man.'

Continuing, he said, 'There was, additionally, a gift of one thousand pounds willed to this young man. It was not upward of half a year more and my father's manager passed, as well. The late manager's son wrote to me, describing that he had, indeed, chosen to pursue the legal profession and not the clergy; the interest on one thousand pounds would not be sufficient for his needs. We agreed that, in lieu of his obtaining a living for which he was certainly not suited, he should receive a monetary compensation; therefore, I paid him three thousand pounds. I heard nothing further until last year, when this fellow obtruded quite painfully upon my existence. In addition to myself, my parents had a daughter, my much younger sister. I shall spare you what details I have been able to garner but suffice to say, this same fellow had attempted to persuade my sister, still a young girl, to elope with him. They were to leave the following day when I arrived and inadvertently – but fortuitously – thwarted his designs.' He stopped, clearly too overcome to carry on speaking.

'You wish to protect your sister and prevent this man from perpetrating greater harm?' inquired Elizabeth, to give him but a moment longer to collect himself. Mr. and Mrs. Bennet sat listening, neither indicating any reaction to the telling.

'You are correct, Miss Bennet. As I had earlier mentioned to Mr. Bennet, my intention in journeying hence is to garner what information I might to organize a similar system in my home county of Derbyshire. My cousin is a colonel and has contacts in, shall we say, disreputable places. From these sources, he heard tell of a band of men who were making the committing of any crime almost impossible in Hertfordshire. I solicited his aid in discovering as much information as possible, to the end that I should find those in charge of the men and appeal to them for their assistance.'

The narration complete, Mr. Darcy watched Mrs. Bennet carefully for a response. She looked askance at her husband and nodded slightly, as if in confirmation. Neither of Miss Bennet's parents appeared surprised to the least degree and it occurred to the gentleman that his application had been expected. This was not at all as he had assumed, finding a level of quickness and discernment in these modest, country-dwelling people that one would only anticipate in the most prestigious institutions of education. The mortification of his having grossly and wrongly misjudged the Bennets – and, worse, their awareness of such – made for an acutely uncomfortable wait, during which he sat, feeling the justice of their scrutiny.

At last, Mrs. Bennet spoke. 'Elizabeth, please accompany our guest to the barn. He might appreciate some exercise after sitting so long in one attitude. You may also acquaint him with some of the building's amenities.' With that statement, the two youngest occupants of the room were summarily dismissed.

The path to the barn was not long and Mr. Darcy found his excitement at the current turn of events – his cousin had been **_correct_** – was difficult to suppress. As they approached the common-looking edifice, he recalled the numerous occurrences in his life where appearances were not indicative of the essence and decided, wisely, to withhold judgment.

'Sir, we are here. My mother had asked if you might enjoy some exercise; would you prefer sword, quarterstaff or hand-to-hand? I can accommodate you in any of the above.' Elizabeth had been instructed that, should the gentleman prove worthy to view their barn, she was to ascertain his skills, by challenge if necessary.

He was all astonishment – this young lady was to fight him? 'Miss Bennet, you are of a much smaller stature than myself. I hardly consider it fair to engage you in combat. Perhaps one of the men would be a more appropriate choice?'

Elizabeth was unsurprised by his words, but felt the slight, nonetheless. 'Then, sir, I shall choose the weapon. Please follow me.' She led him to a truly awe-inspiring assortment of long and short swords, swords of all calibers.

'Which sword would you prefer? I am equally proficient with all.' This was not a boast; her voice held only truth. Darcy began to feel worried – he could not fight a lady and particularly one who seemed to be as capable as Miss Bennet. At this moment, he dearly wished for the presence of his cousin, the colonel, who would not have been as intimidated by her professed mastery.

'This one.' He selected a short sword, as he was familiar with fencing and had a greater comfort with the weapon.

Elizabeth smiled and found one that suited her. 'Very well, sir. En garde!'


	4. Chapter 4

'Perhaps, sir, we should cease. I have now scored upon you four times to your none. Would you care to choose an alternative method of combat?' Elizabeth spoke with no little amusement; the gentleman's breath was rather labored and he was more bent than upright, whilst she maintained her former composure, evidence of her having been extensively trained. Much as she did not wish to bestow an injury on him, his attitude of condescension was insupportable, particularly as _he_ had approached the Bennet family for assistance.

It was, therefore, quite diverting to watch the great man gasping as if there were not air enough in the vicinity.

After some minutes, Mr. Darcy stood fully and declared it conceivable that he should attempt another variety of weapon, as he had not been at leisure to practice exhaustively with the short sword in many years. Elizabeth was quite proud of her equanimity – she did not laugh aloud at his pompous pronouncement.

'Mr. Darcy, it was most fortuitous for you at the previous evening's assembly that my mother had arrived at that precise moment, as I was prepared to instruct you in several aspects of unarmed combat. Shall we introduce the subject now?' She stepped back, adopting an appropriate stance and leaving her opponent chary of her possible skills in this category.

Replied he, 'Miss Bennet, though I am sure your good mother has an estimable sense of timing, assuredly there could have been no advance which you could have undertaken to remove me in such limited quarters.' The conviction in his voice was strong and unassailable.

'Perhaps, sir,' spoke Elizabeth slowly, 'You would care to re-create your stance of the previous evening?' His certainty was more troubling than droll, for an inviolable rule in combat is to never assume inability on the part of one's opponent. Suppositions could, indeed, cause grievous harm to a person – or those for whom one was responsible.

The gentleman assented and stepped closer, to lightly grasp Elizabeth's arm, as he done at the assembly, appearing secure in the belief of his own correctness. She placed her hand atop his own and, to his surprise, wrapped her fingers around his wrist. Smilingly, she glanced upward; he felt his wrist move immediately before an acute pain engulfed his arm, in its entirety. Darcy could not, for the agony, remain on his feet and so released Elizabeth, just prior to his falling down to his knees.

Containing her irritation at the affected man, Elizabeth queried, 'Was that a sufficient exhibition, Mr. Darcy? Are we now prepared to resume our examination? My mother will be most displeased if you are insufficiently prepared. If you are to organize a group similar to this one in your home county, you must be capable of determining other's level of proficiency through your own. As yet, I have not discerned in you any great knowledge of the necessary arts.'

She proceeded to one of the walls, upon which hung a notable collection of quarterstaffs, and selected two. Offering the longer to the gentleman, Elizabeth explained, 'Although few utilize weapons such as these in our time, they are an exceptional method by which one may learn balance. Further, their usage is in some manner similar to that of swords and can be a splendid implement. Let us commence.'

Thus saying, she positioned both her hands and her body correctly, awaiting her visitor's subsequent action. Imitating her attitude, he stepped forward and attempted a strike. Elizabeth parried and, with a movement simple in appearance, spun his stick away; as he watched his weapon distance itself from him, there was an unexpected noise and Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy found himself abruptly prone, observing the beams of the ceiling.

'Come, sir,' began Elizabeth, 'right yourself and we must return to Longbourn. I had been tasked with ascertaining your fitness and can only hope that your skill in the saddle is far superior to what you have thus far displayed.' With those words, she replaced all loose implements and walked to the door, halting there until the tall gentleman reluctantly followed, feeling her speech to be unnecessarily abusive.

On their arrival at the house, Mr. Darcy was requested in Mr. Bennet's study. As he sat, Mrs. Bennet and Elizabeth emerged from the wall, and placed themselves adjacent to the Master's desk.

'How did you find Mr. Darcy, Elizabeth? What is his degree of facility?' inquired Mrs. Bennet. The daughter dutifully reported her findings in an exact telling of their activities.

Mr. Darcy was in the habits of authority; he was therefore unaccustomed to submitting to another's wishes and preferred to schedule his time as he desired. As he apprehended the matter, he had come, ignoring other pressing matters, to this vicinity in order to find a better solution for his dealings with Wickham. If more than his family were able to benefit by this foray, so be it, but the primary impetus behind this journey would remain his desire to keep his sister and her name secure from any who might seek to sully them.

If these people had not been positively identified by Colonel Fitzwilliam as the likely answer to his conundrum, he would assuredly have already left these environs and sought company with those who wished for nothing more than his approbation. It was mortifying to find himself judged not good enough – him! The Master of Pemberley! – by residents of this small, rural town in one of the least well-to-do counties in England. As a consequence, he was exceedingly upset by his mistreatment at their hands.

'Madam,' opened Mr. Darcy, 'I am afraid that there may have been a misconstruction. My attendance in your presence is merely to understand the organization and operation of a league such as yours, to the end that I might begin one in my home county and is unquestionably not to scrutinize my capabilities in combat. If you cannot provide me with the intelligence required, I must respectfully take my leave.' Standing, he formally bowed to the room's occupants and removed himself before aught else could be spoken.

Elizabeth watched, astonished, at his disrespectful action and looked to her mother, who appeared unperturbed.

Mrs. Bennet calmly said, 'He will likely come back, as his excursion will remain unanswered unless he solicits assistance. Elizabeth, I imagine that Jane may desire your company. Mr. Bennet, you wished to speak with me?' Thus dismissed, Elizabeth left to find her elder sister.

Mr. Darcy did, indeed, withdraw to London after his unsatisfactory audience with the Bennets but could find none better suited to aid him in his task than the same people that he had previously disdained. He thought to discuss the subject with his cousin, the colonel, but chose to refrain; his own conscience – or was it perhaps his pride - would not permit such a discussion. There had been, Darcy recognized, injustice in his words and he had conducted himself in a fashion unworthy of his name.

Despite acknowledging to himself the inappropriateness of his actions, the notion of an admission of his wrong-doing being owed to the Bennets was absent from his thoughts. They were not of import enough in society for a lack of apology to concern him unduly and the daughters were hardly tolerable – particularly that impertinent one. He determined the most prudent course was to return to Netherfield and re-establish communication with Mr. Bennet. There was much to be accomplished and in an amount of time possibly inadequate for his purposes.

The ladies of Longbourn soon waited on those of Netherfield and the visit was returned in due form. Mr. Bingley's sisters allowed Miss Bennet to be sweet; they expressed their inclination to become better acquainted with the two oldest sisters, though the mother _was_ intolerable and the younger sisters not worth speaking of. Jane received these attentions quite happily, assuming they sprung from genuine interest; Elizabeth saw much wanting in the ladies' manner but found value in their attachment, as it could be construed to arise from their brother's admiration.

It was the evening after Darcy's re-admittance to Netherfield that a large party assembled at the home of Sir William Lucas. Mr. Bingley continued in the mind of the neighborhood as a most amiable man, for he ensured his attendance at the numerous occasions that neighbors find to gather. To that fellow's delight, the Misses Bennet were also present and his enthusiastic attentions to Jane did not go unnoticed by Elizabeth. She was gratified on her sister's behalf and took pleasure in closely observing Mr. Bingley and Jane.

Occupied as she was with her sister's fortunes, Elizabeth was far from suspecting that she had become an object of scrutiny. Mr. Darcy had noted her presence and began to study her without admiration, only looking to criticize. No sooner had he declared to himself that she had hardly a good feature in her face, than he found it rendered uncommonly intelligent by the beautiful expression of her dark eyes. Much to his chagrin, this discovery was succeeded by more, equally discomfiting. Watching her move about the room, he perceived her figure to be light and pleasing and her manners, while not those of the fashionable world, caught his eye with their playfulness.

He was astonished at the turn of his mind and solitude was now of first importance to the great man's peace, as he could not properly analyze his thoughts in this crowded space. She had somehow turned his own self against him and he required privacy to understand how this had come to pass.

Impertinent girl.


	5. Chapter 5

**I want to apologize - life has been, well, a LOT lately. It is only very recently that I have emerged from the fog surrounding my mind and have been able to write this chapter, short though it is. Hopefully, upcoming chapters will be forthcoming more quickly.**

Several days had passed since the assembly and naught else of note had occurred. On this particular day, however, the residents of Meryton received two welcome diversions – there was a militia regiment come to winter in their fair locale and news of their beloved Watchmen had been received. The militia would supplement their small society and provide more variety than could typically be found in this small town, but the information regarding a thwarted robbery on the road to London was positively scintillating. For though men in regimentals were indeed handsome, they had been organized for the protection of the nation as a whole and were headquartered in Meryton for no more than the winter months; whereas, the Watchmen _must_ be residents of this county and patently were in existence for the sole protection of Hertfordshire. The young ladies were friendly in their dealings with the militia but swooned at the thought of coming in contact with their beloved defenders.

At the southeastern-most corner of Hertfordshire, Cheshunt was at a distance of greater than twenty miles from Meryton and, therefore, it had taken two days for knowledge of the victory to be widely known in this district. A group of miscreants had periodically targeted this precise stretch of the ancient Roman road, for it was frequently travelled by those journeying to London from northern and eastern climes.

On this occasion, they had been met by enough of the guardians for none of the ruffians to have survived the encounter; on examining the bodies, the local magistrate had found, to his delight, several wanted criminals amongst the corpses. It was dearly hoped that this would provide a deterrent against persecuting the citizenry, especially within the borders of Hertfordshire.

Lydia and Kitty were much taken with the account and were recounting with exultation those specifics celebrated by the general populace; their youthful raptures over such excellent acts of courage were punctuated with fluttering hands and cries of joyousness.

While they were thusly engaged, a note arrived at Longbourn for Miss Bennet. It was from Netherfield. Jane perused the missive privately and then, at Mrs. Bennet's instigation, read it aloud for all to hear. Miss Bingley had invited her _dear_ friend to spend the day with herself and Mrs. Hurst, as they two were certain to be unhappy if left to themselves. Of a considerable amount of interest to Mrs. Bennet was the communication that Mr. Bingley and the other gentlemen were to dine with the officers that evening; Jane would assuredly return home prior to encountering Miss Bingley's brother.

On consultation with Mr. Bennet and after further discussion on the subject, Mrs. Bennet, secure that the carriage could not be had, insisted that Jane go on horseback to call upon her new companions; it looked likely to rain and the roads would not be passable, necessitating Jane's remaining at Netherfield until the morrow. Of a certainty, an oilcloth cape atop her outerwear would be necessary – for who should wish their child to take a chill or cold while procuring a new acquaintance?

Elizabeth could not like it – she wondered at the intentions - but, as one who oft relied on her mother's excellent understanding, she accepted the decision, if not with grace then at least with resignation. In truth, she was anxious for her beloved sister, who could see no malice and believed in the goodness of all man. Elizabeth could not fully comprehend this attitude, as she herself tended toward more rapid judgment, and considered a truly good person to be somewhat of a singular individual; for she felt certain that, aside from Jane, she had yet to meet such a personage. Having heard repeatedly that she had a quickness of mind to a greater degree than many, she felt assured that her opinions and impressions were most probably correct.

After being introduced to Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst, Elizabeth had noted the disdain and arrogance with which they gazed upon the society of Elizabeth's neighbors, but that they attempted to disguise as a gracious and good-humored superiority from having resided in London. Their brother, Mr. Bingley, could hardly be thought their sibling, so amiable and pleasant was he. Elizabeth suspected the man's sisters disapproved of Jane as a connection and they had invited her merely as a distraction from their restiveness whilst the gentlemen were otherwise occupied.

The note was duly replied to and off Jane went to Netherfield; shortly after her exit, the rain could wait no longer and continued heavily throughout the evening, making return to Longbourn impossible and answering Mrs. Bennet's hopes. Breakfast was scarcely over when a message was brought; Jane was unwell and begged one of her sisters to convey a packet of specific herbs. Mary was called upon to retrieve the requested items, from those that she and Jane were perpetually collecting and discussing, but, as Mary was not a great walker and the carriage was still not to be had, it was Elizabeth on whom the burden fell to deliver them. Not that it was _much_ of a strain, for bringing relief to poor Jane could never be considered a difficulty.

Jumping over stiles and puddles and hurrying across numerous muddy fields, Elizabeth was shown into the breakfast parlor, where the entire company, all but Jane, was gathered. They were shocked by her appearance but offered nothing beyond polite acknowledgments, though Mr. Bingley had something in his tone that was more than politeness; it sounded like kindness.

On taking her leave and withdrawing from the room, as she prepared to follow the maid assigned to direct her to Jane's bed chamber, Elizabeth requested a moment – she had to retrieve the purpose of her visit, the packet of herbs, from a side table, where it had been placed on her entrance. The door to the breakfast room had not been quite fully shut and the voices of the occupants of said space were clearly to be heard. Slowly, so as to glean the greatest amount of intelligence possible, she walked to her parcel, listening to Miss Bingley expound on Elizabeth's appearance.

'She has nothing to recommend her but being an excellent walker. Why, I could hardly keep my countenance. I daresay you saw, her petticoats were six inches deep in mud. To walk such a distance and alone!'

Mrs. Hurst replied, appalled, 'And her hair – so blowzy and unkempt. Because her sister is ill, she should scamper about the countryside? I should think not. Very improper.'

'I am sure that I saw nothing of the sort,' opined Mr. Bingley, 'I thought that she looked remarkably well. She shows a compassion for her family and that can only improve my opinion of her.'

Miss Bingley resumed, 'But to walk three – or is it four? – miles, up to her ankles in mud? I am sure, Mr. Darcy, that you would not wish for your younger sister to do any such thing.' She spoke confidently, in the tone of one certain of their reception.

The great man replied, 'Positively not. Georgiana has lived in situations where she has been taught proper comportment and to mind closely the propriety of one's actions. Miss Elizabeth and Miss Bennet have been their entire lives in Hertfordshire; we cannot presume as to their knowledge or comprehension of appropriate behavior outside of this rather limited society. While you reside in the neighborhood, there could be little harm in befriending them, for assuredly you share no connections and would have little occasion to meet outside of these environs.'

Mr. Darcy's words – which precisely corresponded to Elizabeth's estimation of the gentleman – caused Elizabeth to hurry her steps toward her sister, as she did not wish to publicly release the mirth brought on by his unguarded speech.


	6. Chapter 6

**Here's some more. It's a tad on the shorter side, but is moving things forward.**

Finding Jane awake but ill at ease, Elizabeth did what was requested of her to aid her elder sister but she could not withhold her questions and curiosity.

'Jane, how did you come to such a state? Were you not in perfect health on taking leave of Longbourn but yesterday?' queried Elizabeth.

The indisposed girl shook her head and replied, 'It was my vain hope that the trifling sniffles would soon disappear and did not wish to trouble our mother with my refusing the invitation. Sadly, they have only increased and I now find myself with a sore throat and slight fever but now that you are here, I feel much improved by the presence of family.' Although she had not spoken a great many words, Jane now laid back upon the bed with weariness evident in her manner.

Elizabeth sat by the bed, reading aloud from a book which she had carried from home for this express purpose, not trusting Mr. Bingley to have so rapidly filled the shelves of Netherfield's library. After but a few pages, she determined that Jane was, indeed, asleep. It now became imperative to attend to the assignment with which she had been tasked; she, therefore, arranged her hair as tidily as possible and assured herself of a semblance of order in her presentation. Wishing Jane good sleep, Elizabeth took care to shut the door soundlessly after her.

Descending the stairs, she was undecided as to whether the library or the front sitting parlor was a superior location for her purposes; however, on entering the sitting room, its eminent suitability for her scheme became apparent - Mr. Bingley, his sisters and his guest were arrayed in various occupations throughout the room.

The ever-affable Mr. Bingley jumped to his feet and greeted her smilingly with, 'Miss Elizabeth! How is your sister faring? Is there that which could be done for her comfort or yours?' His address was an immense contrast to the barest of civilities proffered by the remainder of the room's occupants.

'I thank you, Mr. Bingley,' responded Elizabeth kindly, 'You have been most welcoming. My sister has taken the medicinal herbs she had desired me to bring to relieve her fever and throat; she is currently sleeping and I did not wish to disturb her repose.' She seated herself upon a settee apart from the company, work basket at hand, content to observe and listen.

Mrs. Hurst sat upon a couch, gazing out of a window and playing with her bangles. Mr. Bingley had been, prior to his effusive salutation, speaking with Miss Bingley, who had placed herself in the chair nearest the writing desk at which Mr. Darcy was working.

Returning to his former position, Charles Bingley resumed, 'But, Caroline, I do not recall a letter from the Pearsons recently. Have our cousins written you?' Elizabeth's interest was immediately piqued but her needle did not still and her eyes remained fixed on her work.

'Charles,' Miss Bingley impatiently replied, 'That is due, as you may remember, to neither John nor James being great correspondents, quite unlike Agnes, who is rather faithful about the exercise. She had informed me not six months before that they should like to visit on our being ready to receive guests at your new estate and we are to expect them in a fortnight. I cannot comprehend why they wish to view yet another county with little to recommend it, but none of our Pearson cousins have ever enjoyed London as they should.'

Excited, Mr. Bingley exclaimed, 'A fortnight? How grand! We'll have quite the party and we could introduce our relations to the neighborhood. What say you, Miss Elizabeth? Would not a ball be just the thing to present our cousins?'

The lady in question responded, 'A dance is assuredly an excellent manner in which to acquaint oneself with new people and limited societies, such as this one, tend to happily claim new members, regardless of the duration of their tenure. Do your cousins hail from a distant region?'

Miss Bingley was displeased at this turn of the conversation – hold a ball for these locals, indeed! – and answered, 'I do not know how long they would remain in this area, as the family is from Ridgmont in Bedfordshire, which is but twenty miles to the north.'

Elizabeth expressed her surprise at the lady's speech, for to travel twenty miles in a single carriage with a number of family members could certainly not be deemed a comfortable endeavor.

Mr. Darcy, despite his resolve to be circumspect in his attentions to Elizabeth, found himself drawn into the discussion, declaring that even fifty miles in a well-sprung carriage would not constitute a hardship. He did, however, remark with a slight smile that comfort was a comparative term and the particular inclinations of the individuals within the carriage could materially affect the ease in which they journeyed.

'Are you, therefore, stating, sir,' inquired Elizabeth archly, 'that many families would be in possession of relations who do not act at all times in a decidedly civil manner? Could you claim yourself devoid of such a commodity?' She could not enjoy his implication that her own relations were at all vulgar, despite her having to acknowledge the truth of his statement.

Affronted for her dear friend, Miss Bingley cried, 'Mr. Darcy has no relations of whom to be embarrassed! They are all above reproach in their behavior, as those related to Earls must certainly be aware of the import of their every action. Those of a certain sphere not only grasp, but appreciate, these notions.' Though Elizabeth was diverted by such an enthusiastic defense of the gentleman, she was equally curious if her hostess understood that she had, inadvertently, demeaned her own family.

Standing, Elizabeth excused herself, declaring a need to return to her sister; she took her leave and repaired to Jane's bed chamber, surveying the premises to ensure that none had entered in her absence. After inspecting her dozing sister, Elizabeth sat and wrote a short note to their mother; on sealing the missive, she crept down to the kitchen, finding the precise servant she had sought. As he hurried toward Longbourn, Elizabeth rapidly returned to her sister's side.

 _How had he come to this place? It had begun when his much younger – but much beloved – sister had gone to reside with their cousins for three months. There she had met_ _ **him**_ _, the man who had forced a doting elder brother to question everything he had thought to be correct._

Miss Bennet was not well enough for her sister to join the rest of the company for dinner, which was no hardship for Elizabeth. She far preferred to dine with Jane than be forced to fence with Miss Bingley and Mr. Darcy, attired in one of the evening dresses that had been brought to Netherfield, as Mr. Bingley wished for his newest guest to have all of the comforts she would find in her home and a loving sibling to attend her was, in his genial mind, quite the necessity. Elizabeth was to remain at Netherfield until Jane was able to return in health to Longbourn.

A note arrived for Miss Elizabeth and it was delivered to the intended recipient with alacrity. Mr. Darcy happened to be present when the servant came with the missive. He was not, by nature, an excessively intrusive person but, on the occasions when his inquisitiveness was roused, he fancied himself rather a good detective and relentlessly sought answers to his queries. Being in possession of what information he had about the family Bennet and their clandestine activities, a communication to Miss Elizabeth at this late hour was assured to stoke his interest.

Mr. Darcy determined that the young lady was accustomed enough to surreptitious pursuits that she would give no indication of the contents of the letter but, that if action was to be taken, it would be during the hours of darkness. To no diminishment of his pride, his supposition was proved correct and, as he waited patient and still in the unlit Netherfield library, two black figures stealthily made their way toward the house. He walked slowly, carefully until the partially-curtained window was directly in front of him, hiding the majority of his body behind the thick draperies.

Despite his expectation of such an event, when a black-clad person climbed down a rope hung from one of the upper balconies and alit on the lawn near the awaiting two, Mr. Darcy could not help startling. It had to be Miss Elizabeth, come for a night-time conference with her compatriots, and could be no other; however, there was _that_ of surprise in him at her smooth descent, as the strength required to comfortably scale a vertical rope was considerable.

The discussion was hushed and short; thus, after but several moments, two shadows slipped away across the grass and an inky shape made its way rapidly back up the rope. Wishing to remain unseen, the gentleman from Derbyshire did not attempt movement before many minutes had passed. He quietly and cautiously proceeded toward his suite and, after securing all doors to his chambers, lit a candle and began to write out, in precise detail, what had occurred this evening. If he kept an exact record of the events, there was a greater likelihood of his eventual comprehension of this conundrum. If there was one thing Mr. Darcy disliked, it was a mystery.


	7. Chapter 7

**So Netherfield is a bit of a sticking point for me, because I AM NO JANE AUSTEN. She could write meaningful dialogue that made sense and also lampooned societal failings. I'm a bit overwhelmed by it, so it took a while to get this at least close to ok. Not much action but there will be son enough. Just not quite yet. Also, there was going to be a second conversation, but I figured that I wrote that too, this chapter would never get posted. :(**

Enveloped in darkness and standing utterly still so as not to be noticed, Elizabeth watched as the tall gentleman snuck into his rooms and audibly locked the door. It was as Charlotte had thought – there _had_ been a person in the library observing them and, of course, it had been Mr. Darcy. Who besides the taciturn fellow would have found reason to ensconce themselves in the book room – and remain thus, even late into the evening? As no light had been visible, Elizabeth could only surmise that his intention had been to surreptitiously behold the meeting. But to what purpose? She could not quite comprehend his motivation in doing thus but it bore noting; Mrs. Bennet was certain to be apprised on the morrow.

Though having been assigned quarters of her own, Elizabeth passed the chief of the night in her sister's room and, in the morning, was gratified to take note of the considerable improvement in Jane's demeanor. The elder Bennet was pleased but unsurprised – she had known that the herbs would have such an effect. On receiving an inquiry very early from a housemaid, they were able to provide a happier answer to Mr. Bingley than what he had thought to learn; however, a note was dispatched to Mrs. Bennet desiring her presence at Netherfield. That worthy personage arrived shortly with her second youngest daughter and was shown promptly to the eldest Miss Bennet's room.

On ascertaining that there was no immediate danger and that Jane was, in fact, regaining her health at a rapid pace, Mrs. Bennet was satisfied. Kitty had been informed that she and Elizabeth were to await her return in the front parlor, the one in which the Netherfield company was presently ensconced. Miss Bingley politely engaged the sisters in meaningless conversation, anticipating the entrance of Mrs. Bennet directly; she was not disappointed, as presently Miss Catherine and her mother were admitted to the sitting room.

Inquired Mr. Bingley, 'I trust you have found Miss Bennet's health to be improving and her situation to be acceptable. If there is aught else that you might recommend for her comfort, it shall be done.'

As the elder woman took her seat, she was quite profuse in her gratitude for the kind gentleman's graciousness; she was equally unstinting in her compliments of the decorations and the house. It seemed that nothing was beneath her notice and no detail went unseen. Miss Bingley was rather imperious in her acceptance of the praise, receiving the words condescendingly, as if they were her due. Lydia was not present and without her encouraging influence, Kitty was too timid to speak of what was of great interest to herself – balls and whether one would be held at Netherfield.

After many enthusiastic assurances by Mr. Bingley and markedly more restrained replies by his sister, Mrs. Bennet was prepared to take her daughter and her leave. Elizabeth escorted her relations to their carriage, lingering while her mother ensured the younger girl was settled until Mrs. Bennet's attention was turned back to herself.

Having placed himself in a chair located so as to have an unimpeded view of the drive; Mr. Darcy was in the singular position to observe the abbreviated discussion that occurred between Miss Elizabeth and her mother. As both women must be full aware of their visible position, they were behaving within their publicly-known personas; Mrs. Bennet gesticulating frequently and her daughter standing, listening politely, until the elder woman abruptly turned and caught the eye of the watching gentleman, to his vast astonishment. She then climbed into the carriage and was driven off.

On returning to the parlor, Elizabeth wished she were at leisure to excuse herself but had been informed by her mother that Jane was asleep and it was her obligation to remain with the company. It was right rather than pleasant and, consequently, must be borne. Miss Bingley had been conversing in a low tone with her sister but, on Elizabeth's entrance, ceased and began to question Mr. Darcy about his younger sister. Was she to London for the winter? Had she grown much since their last acquaintance?

The gentleman from Derbyshire replied to each of the inquiries with civility, answering that her plans were not yet firm and she was now about Miss Elizabeth Bennet's height or perhaps a little taller.

Cried Miss Bingley, 'Oh, I long to see her again. Her performance on the piano-forte is exquisite and she is so extremely accomplished for one of her age.'

The lady's brother concurred with her and added, 'It is amazing to me how all young ladies have the patience to become so very accomplished.'

Miss Bingley asked him what ever could he mean by his words, whereupon he replied that he had never been introduced to a young lady without her being called very accomplished.

After listening to his friend enumerate the deeds mentioned, Mr. Darcy commented, 'Your list has too much truth to it. If all ladies were solely proficient in those qualities, I should certainly not call any of them uncommonly talented. There is far more to be considered if she is to be deserving of the title.'

Despite her desire to continue an on-looker and not to participate in their discussion, Elizabeth was moved to observe, 'You must comprehend a great deal in your idea of an accomplished woman.'

The great man bowed his head slightly and replied, 'Yes, I do. When one is afforded great opportunities, a great effort to improve oneself should follow. Having wealth and position should grant advancement of one's abilities and allow for mastery where real effort is expended. '

Miss Bingley could do naught but agree. 'It is as Mr. Darcy stated but, to be worthy of the designation, one must also have a vast many achievements to their credit, along with a certain something in their air and manner of address. She must greatly surpass that which is usually met with.' Discernable in _her_ manner of address was a distinct insolence of expression, intended for Elizabeth – for Miss Caroline Bingley would assuredly never permit a show of disdain to be aimed at Mr. Darcy of Pemberley.

Replied Elizabeth, 'How often would you say that effort is expended to the degree that a skill is mastered and not merely learned? To become a true proficient on the piano-forte, it would require a great deal of practice and time spent solely in the company of one's instrument.. Could you assert that those believed to be accomplished are judged faithfully? There are few of whom I am aware that so excel at their craft they could be called masters; although, I must admit that my circle of acquaintance is likely modest in comparison to your own.'

Mr. Darcy responded, 'You are correct that far fewer have applied themselves to perfecting their skill than those claiming a proficiency in said competence. Despite my more extensive connections, there are but a limited number of individuals whose professed expertise I could agree to be accurately portrayed.'

His faithful friend, determined to have her say, exclaimed, 'Of a certainty Mr. Darcy speaks the truth! For those persons confined to a restricted society, they would not have encountered a sufficient quantity of local inhabitants to be capable of concluding the point accurately. Those residing in London, however, would have greater occasion to comprehend fully.'

Elizabeth answered, 'Is it not then a shame that often the genuinely talented are overlooked in favor of the mediocre? For they are frequently too busy with their own endeavors to concern themselves with society and society has no patience for personages from whom they do not see an immediate benefit.'

She was, at that moment, summoned to her sister's chamber, as Miss Bennet was awake and requesting assistance. Taking her leave, Elizabeth withdrew to find Jane, whilst not as ill as the previous day, in more discomfort than earlier. She provided what relief she could and resolved to remain within the room, maintaining a surveillance over her sister, until her presence was required for dinner. Her preference would be to refrain from attending the summons; Elizabeth felt that it was right, rather than agreeable, to take herself down to dinner.

The meal proceeded civilly, yet could not have been called pleasant by any but Mr. Bingley. That amiable fellow inquired after Miss Bennet's health in quite a distressed tone, endearing him to the lady's sister, and advised Elizabeth that the housekeeper had been instructed to respond promptly if the Bennet sisters were to in need of anything.


	8. Chapter 8

**Quick note:** **I am deliberately overstating a few points in the dialogue for effect. It's done on purpose.**

Elizabeth retired to Jane's bedchamber after dinner, meaning to be done with the company, who were on the whole – aside from the ever-affable Mr. Bingley – disagreeable. To her dismay, this was not to be, as Miss Bennet petitioned her younger sister to represent their family amongst the gathered and, despite her reservations, Elizabeth did so.

On entering the drawing room, she found the whole party playing at cards and determined that listening with the appearance of reading one of the few books present was more to her purpose. It was after several minutes had passed that a most diverting conversation began. Mr. Bingley had opened the topic of the Pearsons and their hoped-for arrival; he then proceeded to catechize his sisters about the state of their plans for the ball. Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst seemed to be of one mind in resisting what they viewed as their brother's provocation, and spoke instead on the deplorable state of the goods from Meryton when taken in contrast with those of London.

Looking up from her book, Elizabeth stated, 'I must own a distinct disadvantage in being compared to such a great city, for what town could bear the resemblance? Nevertheless, it is to the benefit of those residing in Meryton and environs that the owners of the area's estates maintain their business at local shops, which is then repaid to the estates by better, more plentiful goods and a smaller loss of residents forced to seek employment elsewhere. This is as much a responsibility of a land-owner as the upkeep of their buildings.'

The gentleman from Derbyshire was further charmed by Elizabeth and her defense of Meryton's merchants; he wisely decided, though, that no sign of his admiration should escape, nothing that could elevate within her the hope of influencing his felicity. To that end, much as he concurred with her assessment, he deemed a reply at this moment was imprudent.

As it was evident that Mr. Darcy patently disagreed with Miss Elizabeth – for did he not ignore her comment? – Miss Bingley took it upon herself to answer. 'Your pleading the case for the local shops is very kind and perfectly understandable, considering your own close association. However, this affair will be held at Netherfield and our family name will be connected to its success; although I can appreciate your loyalty to this district, superior goods will be expected and, therefore, must be present.'

Amused, Elizabeth asked, 'Let us surmise a general supposition: that a person of means, and we could be speaking of any given party, was to purchase an estate. Let us also presume that they were to invite your opinion as to whether they should purchase their wares from town or from the shopkeepers nearest their home. Would you deem one or the other the most prudent course of action? Or would you, instead, recommend possibly a combination of both choices?'

Mr. Darcy assiduously kept his eyes upon his cards, despite being wholly alive to the discussion between the two ladies.

Confidently replied Miss Bingley, 'I believe that it is dependent upon the situation. For a family of lesser means and stature, there is no harm to their reputation if they were to travel no further than the closest market town. But for those from a more exalted rank, it is of utmost importance that their surroundings are in keeping with their station and only goods from the best locations can answer their purpose.'

'For the _appearance_ of everything good is far superior to the truth of its essence?' queried Elizabeth in a gently sardonic tone.

Caroline Bingley was, much like her brother, not deficient of understanding and could relate a scene with much wit and humor; however, by none of her acquaintance would she be considered clever. She could, therefore, make no answer to Elizabeth's question.

Unable to maintain his indifferent façade, Mr. Darcy declared, 'Why does the utilization of finer materials necessarily imbue falseness to the one who purchases them? Could this not speak, instead, to the preferences of the one for whom they were acquired?'

Elizabeth exclaimed, 'But from whence did they procure said materials? Would you encounter in society the one from whom you bought your draperies or other home objects? If this meeting did by chance happen, would you acknowledge his presence? Conversely, if you were in your own neighborhood in the country and passed a local merchant, would you ignore him? Must it follow that any conversation between a gentleman and a tradesman must be hidden or conducted away from town, else the reputation of the greater one would suffer?'

Smiling, Mr. Darcy replied, 'Why, Miss Bennet - are you tilting at windmills? For it is certain that your foe is not likely to be vanquished. These strictures were not the work of a moment and their dissolution will neither be, similar to the rules governing, as it was recently spoken of, an assembly or ball. What would occur to the character of a woman who had the temerity to request the hand of a gentleman for a set?'

Elizabeth could not permit his question to remain unanswered. 'And if there were a surfeit of gentlemen? Would you declare the ladies forced to sit for lack of a partner to have been slighted by other men? Or would a more generous impulse impel you to understand their plight? For if gentlemen were simply to stand around and not dance, would there be any ladies deriding them for some supposed unsuitability?'

Astonished, he said, 'It is most _always_ to the lady's detriment when she is not engaged for a particular set, unless she were accompanied by a gentleman during her rest, for she gives the impression, intentional or not, of unseemliness of some sort. If a gentleman were to abstain from dancing, none would fault him, for it can be a tiresome activity.'

He could proceed no further, as Elizabeth declared, 'You have precisely described the ludicrousness of the situation, sir! A gentleman may find repose as he so chooses but a lady may not, else her reputation could suffer. To what end could this deplorable criterion have been established? It seems to me that there is a parallel to be found between our two examples. Through no fault of their own, many innocent people have been and likely will continue to be materially injured by practices with no discernable reason.'

Although the gentleman from Derbyshire was prepared to respond, Miss Bingley had tired of a discussion which did not include herself; therefore, she, with assistance from Mr. Hurst, exhorted those seated at the card table to attend their game. Elizabeth returned to her book and, finding their discourse rather dull and uninformative, shortly begged pardon of those present and bade them a good night.

 _An adorable, lively little girl had been just the solution to the silence and solemnity of their home. Despite his best efforts to preserve his dignity, he had been unable to avoid her childish but feminine games and had been found more than once seated in an overly small chair, dressed in a frilled pinafore, partaking of tea and pastries with her dolls._

 _Busy as he had been learning those items appropriate for a young man, time had passed with rapidity. To his vast surprise, on returning to his family's estate, he discovered that the little princess had become a young woman. To his vast irritation and concern, on their traveling to other locales, her still-young self was much admired by males of various stripes. He had spoken with his father on the topic of how best to protect her but the elder man had been less disturbed by the scrutiny the young lady had received, claiming that while men might look, it did not follow that they would act._

To Elizabeth's delight, Jane was much improved come morning and she wished to join the company after breakfast. She felt mortified that she should have ignored the signs of a trifling cold, when she and Mary were known to be proficient healers, and then to have imposed so on her new friends – it was deplorable behavior and required exoneration. That there was the additional inducement of encountering Mr. Bingley, she could not deny and hoped to have occasion to speak with the genial fellow before long. Elizabeth had informed her just this morning that Mrs. Bennet had summoned her daughters home the soonest that Jane's health permitted and it seemed very likely that her younger sister would send a request to Longbourn after lunch for the carriage this afternoon. It, therefore, became imperative that she should seize what opportunity might present itself to communicate with the man of whom she thought so highly.

Jane's expectations were fulfilled on both points. She and Elizabeth were warmly welcomed into the sitting room by Mr. Bingley and he saw to the fire's being built up, seating himself beside Jane on the settee closest to the warmth and safeguarding her against any cold drafts. Though she could not speak to what her younger sister was occupied with during this period, Jane and the young gentleman enjoyed a quiet talk uninterrupted by the other occupants of the room.

The lack of disruption was, in large part, due to Miss Bingley's fascination with her book, which, coincidentally, corresponded to the progress being made by Mr. Darcy through his. Mrs. Hurst was absorbed in vacantly staring at a picture hung upon a wall and her husband appeared to be sleeping on one of the couches.

Elizabeth sat sewing in the opposite corner, in quiet contemplation of the scene before her, until an exclamation from Mr. Bingley caught her attention. He was, it seemed, adamant that the Bennet sisters should not leave so precipitately but Jane was firm where she felt herself to be right and she would not gainsay her mother.

The carriage arrived after a most enjoyable luncheon, for the closer the time of departure, the more cordial Miss Bingley and her sister became. Elizabeth and Jane bid their farewells and departed.


	9. Chapter 9

The night was exceedingly dark, with the perfect blackness that occurs in the country during a new moon. A gentleman was traveling on the London Road; he had become distracted by business and had not left his home in sufficient time to arrive in London before dark. On arriving in Stapleford Tawney, he was undecided as to whether he should remain overnight and resume his journey come morning or whether to trust in the proximity to town and hope that he would continue unmolested. Unfortunately, however, one who deliberates is often lost.

As his large carriage sat unmoving on the side of the quiet road, several unseen figures stealthily approached the vehicle. The brass lamps fitted to the front were ineffectual against the pervading darkness and, most particularly, when black cloaks were suddenly thrown over them. Within the space of three almost silent minutes, two shapes entered and then re-emerged from the carriage, which had been lightened by one soul and a great many pounds, and the thieves returned rapidly but furtively the way that they had come.

It had been another successful night.

Longbourn was to have a guest, one with whom none of the Bennets were familiar. More particularly, Mrs. Bennet loudly proclaimed to one and all that she had no opinion of the fellow, as he was to inherit Mr. Bennet's estate, due to a rather disagreeable entail.

Having sent ahead a letter notifying his cousins of the impending visit, Mr. Collins, for such was his name, presented himself promptly. Between Mrs. Bennet's repeated complaints against the legality of entails and the general confusion as to his true motivation in seeking out the Bennet family, there was quite a significant amount of curiosity about his person. On the young man's arrival, close note was taken of his appearance. His stature was above average height, although not as tall as Mr. Darcy, but his build was more stout; whether from strength or an enjoyment of food was not immediately determinable. .

Mr. Collins was, by his own admission, blessed to excess to have been given the living at Hunsford by the seemingly magnanimous Lady Catherine de Bourgh. He had not words enough to describe the grandness of her Ladyship and the immensity of her wondrous estate, Rosings. There was no small amount of disappointment expressed by the parson at his cousins' lack of interest or appropriate appreciation for the graciousness that embodied his most noble Patroness.

Although his stated purpose in traveling to Hertfordshire was to heal the breach between two feuding limbs of one family tree, the open admiration with which he looked upon the younger Bennet ladies, as well as any sign of prosperity found within the house, spoke of a different objective.

As the family and their guest were sitting in the drawing room, Mrs. Phillips came hurrying in, exclaiming, 'Oh sister! I _must_ have your advice on my arrangements. Everything is in such a muddle!' Waving her hands about and excitedly walking throughout the room, she continued in this vein until Mr. Collins begged Mrs. Bennet to not feel obligated to attend him; the two women effusively thanked him for his forbearance and withdrew noisily to another location.

Mr. Collins offered to entertain his cousins with the reading of several sermons that he believed to be of interest to young ladies, namely, those lessons regarding the gravity of guarding one's virtue. Quite admirably, Lydia and Kitty managed for a full quarter hour to endure the orotund speech without significant mischief; they were favored that Mrs. Bennet chose to return with some alacrity.

'I must beg your pardon, Mr. Collins,' began the older woman in an animated manner, 'I have been _most_ remiss in my duties and should have inquired earlier on your journey. As you were coming from Kent, it could not have been pleasant to undertake the trip in its entirety during the course of a single day. If you are in need of rest, please do not feel compelled to delay your repose, for we are full able to find occupation until dinner.'

'Ah, no,' the cleric replied cautiously, 'Lady Catherine, in her vast wisdom, felt it prudent for me to travel rather round-about and so I stopped about half-way last night. Her Ladyship informed me prior to my leaving that the last miles are far shorter than in the light of a new day and it behooved me to journey by the longer path, as one can never know when a parson might be of necessity.'

Although not fully comprehending, Elizabeth could see the interest in her mother's gaze and thus, she responded, 'You are indeed blessed in your benefactress and such shrewd direction for her to have given you. Did you find your accommodations to your liking? If the inn at which you stopped was of good quality, we would be glad to know of its existence, as we have relations and acquaintances who enjoy taking trips, and the knowledge of an inn of superior caliber would be of great use.'

Mr. Collins' demeanor became markedly less comfortable and he answered slowly and cautiously, 'My apologies, Cousin Elizabeth. I do not recall the name of the establishment but merely that I was told they were situated about thirty miles from this location.'

Mrs. Bennet, happily gesticulating with her hands, exclaimed, 'Mr. Collins, your kindness to my nerves is most appreciated, for to know that you were able to find a site wherein you might be able to rest during your travels brings me no end of relief. Could you have possibly been in the proximity of Stapleford Abbotts? That is approximately thirty miles from Longbourn. We have friends in that vicinity and it is quite pleasant to note that their claims of the quality of their local inn have not been overstated.' Dismissing Kitty and Lydia to their preferred activity – making over bonnets and worrying on decorations of their respective dresses – the elder woman commenced upon a series of questions, as wordy in their exposition as Mr. Collins' answers. She quizzed him minutely on his living, his patroness and the wondrousness of the grounds at Rosings Park.

When it was time for dinner, Mrs. Bennet ensured that the parson escorted Elizabeth into the dining room, with a rather blatant wink and, 'Child, you must make certain that our cousin can find his way without becoming lost.' As Elizabeth had seen the slight widening of her companion's eyes on the mention of the word, 'Stapleford', she recognized that her strict attendance to his whereabouts could prove to be of utmost importance.

The meal was unnecessarily prolonged and excessively tedious, due to Mr. Collins regaling those present with tales of Her Ladyship's gracious assistance in all aspects of the lives of those reliant upon her grace, in addition to the prodigious cost of the glazing of the windows and a specific, magnificent chimney-piece. If it were not for their appreciation of the tasty food, all enjoyment in the meal might have been lost, as the conversation was more of a soliloquized paean to Rosings Park and its owner.

After the entire household had gone to sleep that evening, Elizabeth was unsurprised to see her mother slide silently into her room. With Mr. Collins in residence, there was no doubt of their ability to maintain a very local surveillance over his activities but if he were to attempt to leave Longbourn during the hours of dark or if he were to travel alone into Meryton – and possibly beyond – the Bennets would have a difficult time tracking his movements.

Although the fellow himself appeared to be rather unprepossessing, there was something in his essence, a sinister undertone in his looks, which would make any who might be attuned to such things take immediate notice. Aside from his blatantly servile attitude toward Lady Catherine, Elizabeth had learned little about the man since his setting foot in Longbourn, other than that he was unquestionably strong. She wondered at the deceptive swathing of his frame in ill-fitting garments and what this might portend.

Therefore, Mrs. Bennet's mid-night visit to speak was completely expected and somewhat hoped for. Unraveling a mystery was a favorite pastime of Elizabeth's and without her mother's aid, it was unlikely that the enigma that _was_ their guest would be solved.

Mrs. Bennet spoke quietly, 'I do not believe that you will be needed tonight, as he only arrived but today. It would be unwise to act so precipitately and, though he presents as a fool, it is my belief that he is not. Rest well now, for I fear that we will have much to do during the tenure of his stay here.'

Handing a folded paper to her daughter, she continued, 'This is to be delivered to Mrs. Phillips at first light. There is much to be done and little time to waste.' Bidding Elizabeth good sleep, she slipped out of the small room soundlessly.

Waking early had long been a habit, as Elizabeth found the turning of night to day, that instant when light began to overtake the dark, provided calm to her self that few other moments in the day could; she felt that it was akin to the daily struggle of good to conquer evil.

After delivering the note, Elizabeth took the path that would wind past Lucas Lodge. Charlotte was already awake and had, to some extent, anticipated a summons of some sort. She had noted the previous day an increase in the traffic between certain persons and supposed that she and her fellows-at-arms would soon be called into action. After rousing her brother, the three set off for the barn hidden behind Longbourn and where they were to meet with Mrs. Bennet.

Her countenance was grim, quite as grim as they had seen in a while, and her words matched her looks. 'There was a coach attacked outside of our county two nights ago and I have reason to believe that these individuals may be preparing to bring their trouble to our locale. In addition to theft, a gentleman was killed, his throat slit, and his driver grievously injured. The coach had stopped a short distance from an inn but, despite lamps having been lit on the carriage, there were none to witness this crime. This group acts as one and from the speed of the attack, they are probably highly experienced. We must be vigilant and I have already notified the others of the necessity for nightly patrols, far beyond our usual.'

Charlotte asked, 'Are there people of whom you are suspicious and would bear monitoring?'

'Indeed. Elizabeth has been assigned to our guest, Mr. Collins. There are four other men who have taken rooms in three separate inns. We will be watching their movements. Charlotte and Eldon, you two are required to be prepared at all times, as either Elizabeth or another may have need of your assistance and they cannot know beforehand at what times that might occur.'

Before Mrs. Bennet could release the three friends, Eldon had a question. 'Have assaults of this kind been seen prior to now and in other counties?'

If Mrs. Bennet could seem more forbidding, she now did so. 'The answer, Eldon, is yes.'


	10. Chapter 10

**It's been forever - I know. But this chapter is** ** _finally_** **done.**

Lydia's wish to visit Meryton had not been forgotten and, excepting Mary who wished to prepare some herbs, all of the girls were to go; Mr. Collins was to accompany them, for he thought it most proper that the young ladies should be appropriately escorted. Kitty and Lydia were hurrying ahead of the rest of the party and, thus, arrived in the town just prior to Mr. Collins and his small group. Elizabeth noticed her youngest sisters in an animated conversation with two officers and an unknown man; it was Mr. Denny with a fellow officer and, with a slight uplift of Kitty's favorite eyebrow, introduced Mr. George Wickham, a very pleasant-looking man who had but recently joined the militia and was quite open about his happiness in making new acquaintances.

As Jane was facing Kitty and Lydia, it was only Elizabeth that noted the instant Mr. Collins and Mr. Wickham recognized each other – for there was no other way to describe such. One's countenance momentarily took on an astonished but menacing expression; George Wickham was positively white. Elizabeth could not be certain that he would not faint in the middle of the street and was unsurprised when he rapidly made his excuses and all but dragged his companions away. She wondered at it and determined to speak with her mother on their return to Longbourn.

On turning her eyes from the curious sight of a militia man fleeing from a parson, she spied three figures on horseback – and saw that Jane not only had taken note of their approach but had also perceived the identity of one of the riders. Her light blush rose to greet Mr. Bingley and the two horsemen alongside him. Mr. Darcy gave a grave nod to their walking party, while Mr. Hurst merely stared, an indignant and wrathful glare. The gentleman who had impressed her as being primarily concerned with his own comfort and ease was providing another conundrum for Elizabeth to solve – was he more aware than he permitted to be seen? The individual at whom he was scowling was yet unclear to her. Was it at the retreating backs of the officers or at one of her group? Perhaps, he like Miss Bingley, was disapproving of their brother's attaching himself to Jane?

Mr. Hurst suddenly wheeled his horse about and galloped away from Meryton in the direction of Netherfield; Mr. Bingley watched, confused, and, after a rapid conference, hastily excused himself, following his sister's husband and leaving Mr. Darcy in the odd position of having to civilly apologize for the rapid withdrawal of his friends. It was an unfortunate circumstance, as the gentlemen had been on their way to Longbourn and Mr. Bingley particularly had been most enthusiastic about the visit, though the gentleman from Derbyshire could not in honesty claim disinterest in the scheme.

Even with Elizabeth's singular and unladylike accomplishments and her lack of connections, she was the subject of many a reverie, although he knew that it was impossible for him to act upon his enticing dreams. She was a lady of . . . unique talents and Darcy wondered how precisely she might put some of those abilities to use. Her facility of movement and her grace in action were quite sensual and had embarrassingly inspired several rather stimulating fantasies – none of which were appropriate to recall at the moment and in present company.

Attempting to dispel such unsuitable thoughts caused Mr. Darcy to belatedly take note of the man standing with Miss Bennet and Elizabeth; as a gentleman who routinely engaged in active pursuits, Darcy appreciated the power visible in the man's build. He wished to learn this individual's identity and, to that end, dismounted and politely greeted the ladies, requesting an introduction to their companion, who, he discovered, was parson to Lady Catherine de Bourgh.

On realizing that he was standing in the presence of his patroness' nephew, Mr. Collins could not find sufficient words to alleviate any possible concerns respecting Lady Catherine and to reassure Mr. Darcy that the shining example of feminine beauty, Miss Anne de Bourgh, remained well and in anticipation of her betrothed's return.

Mr. Collins' meaningless verbosity was at significant odds with the menacing atmosphere by which he was surrounded and Darcy could not, regardless of Elizabeth's skills, permit the sisters to remain unescorted in the fellow's presence; he, therefore, graciously offered to accompany the group until their eventual return to Longbourn. Elizabeth's look of astonishment at the Master of Pemberley's magnanimous gesture was momentary and fleeting before she accepted on behalf of herself and her sisters, inviting him to join them for refreshment before his return to Netherfield.

It had been surprise enough that the taciturn gentleman had condescended to speak with Elizabeth and her sisters, but that he was now to publicly attend them during errands that meant nothing to any but themselves was remarkable. No, she must not allow herself to become distracted by that one detail and forget to concentrate upon the myriad of very recent occurrences that were of note.

As they stood, a sash was thrown up and Mrs. Phillips called out to her nieces, inviting them to a card party to be held the next evening. Seeing Mr. Collins and Mr. Darcy, she kindly extended her offer to them as well, claiming that the officers had already agreed to come and it would not merely be a gathering of females. Mr. Collins accepted, stating that he was not averse to harmless entertainment amongst friends and the presence of a clergyman could only improve the assembly. Mr. Darcy, although taken aback by the woman's vulgarity, recalled himself to his manners and replied that he could not speak to whether their party was available but would inquire on his return to Netherfield.

On completing their undertakings in Meryton, the sisters and their two escorts began the relatively short walk back to Lonbourn. Kitty and Lydia hurried ahead somewhat, giggling over their new ribbons and how they were to avoid Mr. Collins and his rambling sermons; Mr. Darcy and Elizabeth had by mutual and silent agreement fallen behind Mr. Collins and Jane slightly, giving both the opportunity to quietly study the man in front of them. Charlotte and Maria Lucas joined the group, professing their desire to visit with the Bennet sisters. Maria attached herself to Kitty and the two girls followed Lydia in her lead, while Charlotte walked with Jane and Mr. Collins along the well-trodden lane.

Elizabeth could not account for her companion's wish to remain by her side but appreciated his current reticence, as it permitted her to think over that which she had gleaned in this brief outing – and what she suddenly suspected that she was seeing. A glance at Mr. Darcy's face showed that gentleman felt a level of disturbance but she could not be certain that his reason was similar to hers.

From her perspective, it appeared that Mr. Collins was closely watching Maria and Kitty, to the exclusion of Lydia and his fellow walkers; he seemed to be encouraged at every instance of their malleability and silliness. Grateful for Charlotte's presence, Elizabeth felt at liberty to circumspectly observe the cleric for the fleeting duration of their journey to Longbourn.

 _His sister had met that man – although he was truly more of an animal than a person – at a party at their cousin's home. He had called upon her repeatedly to their cousin's dismay, despite continual attempts to dissuade him that she was not of an age to receive gentleman callers. After her three months were finished and she was to return to their family home, he had followed her to their estate. Their parents had refused his incessant visits, reiterating that she was too young, and they believed him to have left. Unbeknownst to their family, he did not, in fact, withdraw but instead secreted himself in an unused and remote hunting cabin on their land._

 _Then came the day when the girl's brother was out inspecting their family's grounds and believed that he heard a voice, screaming. The shrieks were like none that he had ever heard, more akin to a wounded animal's sounds than those of a human. He ran as fast as possible, struggling through the brush and trees, to what he believed the source of the noises and, on throwing open the heavy wooden door, he saw to his horror what none should ever be cursed to see._

A chilled nighttime had fallen hours ago, hiding the movements of all within its blackness, whether for good or for evil. Those waiting and watching could discern nothing until a negligible motion was detected adjacent to the quarters of the militia and they became fully alert to who or what could be creeping alongside the barracks. A shadowed figure appeared, silhouetted momentarily against the pale outer wall, stealing silently toward its destination, when a second form was noticed, exiting the lodgings. Both seemed to be stealthily converging on a meeting point away from the structures; but, no, the second individual was being impelled – it looked to be unwillingly - forward by a third person.

The concealed watchers began to slowly advance, maintaining a view of their quarry at all times, gradually spreading out and surrounding the unknown persons. A clandestine late-night rendezvous could not be considered anything but a cause for concern to those who dedicated their hours to upholding the safety of the county's inhabitants.

Closer, inching ever closer, carefully over the dry grass and dusty ground, to their targets – and then the noise of a scuffle arose from the trio. The sound of shuffling boots and the impact of flesh against flesh were heard; the watchers were watching no longer and rushed, weapons drawn, to the site of the fracas. A frightened cry came from one of the three men and he threw himself on the ground, begging for mercy and claiming his innocence.

The remaining two charged their attackers, hacking and slicing at any movement. There were, however, more of the watchers than merely two and within a very few minutes, came the gurgling noise of one who is choking on their own blood. The continual clank of sword on sword was unimaginably loud in the clear night; shortly, though, one of the defenders gave a decisive stab to the chest and the second fellow was dispatched.

They dragged to his feet the man sadly huddled upon the ground and, on hearing his proclamations that he was merely a member of the local militia, one of the watchers declared that he was speaking truth and the daunted soldier was followed until he had disappeared into the barracks.


	11. Chapter 11

Although the Pearsons' arrival was not formally announced to the neighborhood, their presence was taken note of by Meryton's inhabitants in two quite different fashions: Firstly, the sight of a young woman all but dragging Miss Bingley into the local merchant's premises and calling the reluctant Caroline 'my dearest cousin'. Secondly, the long awaited invitations to the hoped-for ball at Netherfield were at last delivered.

Unfortunately, Charlotte and her fellow Watchers were ill-able to enjoy the excitement leading to such an anticipated event, as Mrs. Bennet felt that it was of the utmost importance to maintain a constant vigilance. As Elizabeth was becoming quite the late riser, her sisters - notably and most loudly, Lydia - took to nettling her about her recent adherence to fashionably late hours.

In preparation for the ball, chaos descended upon Longbourn, for how was a house with five young women in it to remain calm in the face of such superb provocation? To the relief of many - and most particularly, Mr. Bennet - the ladies were ready and gone in what could be considered a reasonable amount of time.

Elizabeth entered the ballroom with no expectation of delight, despite the fineness of the decorations and expertise of the musicians. However, if she could describe _pleasure_ as being perpetually on her guard and watching Kitty and Lydia chasing officers - despite their mother's adjurations - then, yes, perhaps she _should_ anticipate much 'pleasure' from this evening. To have encountered Mr. Darcy's stern face immediately on crossing the threshold of Netherfield did nothing toward encouraging one's felicity. That gentleman courteously acknowledged the acquaintance and, after being assured of a dance with Mrs. Bennet's two eldest daughters, soon withdrew to another part of the room.

Mr. Collins had accompanied the Bennet family and ensured a set with each of the Bennet daughters for, he explained, Lady Catherine would surely not object to a ball given by a young man of good name and amongst this fine community. He wished to request such an honor from Miss Bingley and sought her out for that purpose, until he noticed in whose company she stood. Elizabeth observed his action and detected the instant when he spotted Caroline; the object of his gaze was equally interesting to Elizabeth.

James Pearson had the distinction of belonging to a family that was quite insistent that its members resemble one another. Sadly for them, their desire was only partially achieved, for their sons were merely _somewhat_ similar in countenance and build. John Pearson had a larger, stouter frame; whereas, James, despite being the elder brother, was more slender and less thickly built; but none who saw them together could mistake the familial connection. Agnes was, to her advantage, much of a kind with the sibling's mother and did not favor the Pearson line.

There was but a slight hesitation by Mr. Collins on seeing one of the Pearson brothers that made Elizabeth wonder. After a moment, however, he continued in his movement across the room and Elizabeth turned her eyes toward his goal.

It was James alone with whom Caroline Bingley was so companionably standing.

Despite her assignment to remain at Mr. Collins' side, Elizabeth could not help but survey - albeit in a surreptitious manner - the remainder of the spacious but crowded room for John Pearson; she ceased her scrutiny on spotting the minute shake of Mrs. Bennet's head. Doubtless her mother had already set another to follow the monster.

The varied and ceaseless movement of a great number of people, some dancing, some content to observe, served admirably as a distraction for those who wished to monitor the actions of specific persons; it was unfortunate that such an advantage could aid _both_ the protectors and the ones from whom the populace was being protected.

Elizabeth could hear, quite distinctly, Mrs. Bennet's voice describing her joy in having her daughters paid the compliment of many requests and the prospects of their future happiness until Mr. Collins spoke.

'My dear cousin,' he began, all politeness, 'As your company is enjoyable and pleasant, please do not view it as a slight that I have promised your elder sister this dance. I do hope that you will not be offended at my leaving you alone for such a time and pray that you remember how I had asked you for the next.' Thus saying and bowing, he removed himself and crossed the room in search of Jane, who stood beside their mother.

He had not been gone for upwards of two minutes - and the music already started - when a quiet voice from behind her said, 'Miss Elizabeth. Might I have the opportunity of speaking with you in privacy? I have great need of your help.'

Without turning, she replied softly but smilingly, as if amusing herself at the dancers, 'Why, Mr. Wickham. Do you enjoy the evening equally well standing behind a column as you are? How may I assist you? Have you lost your comrades?'

'Elizabeth!' came the loud cry, 'Your sister requires your presence. I insist that you attend her at once.' Mrs. Bennet appeared and noisily waved Elizabeth in the direction of her youngest daughters and, very near them, Mr. John Pearson. The younger lady hurried off, ready to shield her family from trouble, and it certainly was co-incidental that, on seeing a _certain_ person's closest friend, the fellow quitted the area directly.

Ensuring that her voice carried, Mrs. Bennet proclaimed, 'My gracious! The air in here _is_ terribly close!' Thus saying, the good lady nearly collapsed in a chair nearest the pillar and began fanning herself with vigor. She continued, 'Oh! I _must_ have some air. Perhaps I shall step out for a bit and return momentarily.'

Several minutes later, Mr. Wickham crept outside, mindful not to draw notice to himself. Where **had** that woman gotten to?

He backed up near the stone wall of the house, examining his surroundings until a menacing whisper in his ear hissed, 'Why are you here, Mr. Wickham? What is your true purpose in this locale?' As the voice spoke, he felt the sharp end of a dagger come to rest firmly against his throat.

In his life, George Wickham had known acute fear prior to this moment and if he were to recollect the only other time that had occasioned such an emotion to a similar degree, it had been, oddly enough, at the hand of another woman - for the voice was that of Mrs. Bennet. He thought to move away from the danger but, after a tightening of the blade at his slight movement and the additional prick of a second weapon near his heart, truly felt that any action would cause his corpse to be found on the morrow by Netherfield's staff.

His shaky reply was, 'I wish to request your help. I have heard from . . . ah, I have heard of your group and how you prefer to aid those in need and wondered if you could - that is, if we could speak at length. There is much that _must_ be explained.'

A prolonged silence was his answer. Finally, she responded, 'I am to hold a card party an afternoon this week and Mr. Denny will bring you. There will then be an opportunity for discourse. A warning to you - my youngest, Lydia, fancies herself in love with a uniform, so long as the man who fills it accepts her interest. But she is young, not ready for the attentions of a man and none will be tolerated.'

With noticeable sincerity, Mr. Wickham stated, 'You have nothing to fear from me, madam.' Satisfied, the matron withdrew her knife and permitted his rather round-about and stealthy return to the dancing. A few minutes later, Mrs. Bennet re-entered the ballroom, amidst her cries of the rejuvenating quality of evening air. She proceeded to exclaim over Jane being partnered with Mr. Bingley a _second_ time and the good fortune that allowed Elizabeth to have procured such a fine partner as Mr. Darcy.

Mr. Darcy's taciturnity during their dance was not displeasing to Elizabeth; indeed, it was the opposite. His silence enabled her to focus not on his irksome self but on performing her assigned task, for, she had to concede, his stubborn resistance to speech was far more amusing than distressing. Could he not be bothered with the barest of civilities? No matter - he disliked her and she was full aware of this. There was no purpose in conversing with an unpleasant person disinclined to politesse.

For his part, the gentleman in question found it difficult to enter discourse with a lady who could, regardless of his private wishes, be nothing to him. She was as handsome and lively as ever but he should not like to raise her expectations of a future in his presence and in his home. How very many arguments could he bring - her connections, the complete unsuitability of her relations, her insignificant portion, the necessary but undeniably inappropriate nature of her clandestine vocation? He therefore remained mute.

To the immense incredulity of many present, Agnes Pearson was as big a flirt - if not more so - than even Lydia. Whilst the youngest Bennet sisters were relishing a spirited conversation with Mr. Denny and a few of his comrades-in-arms, Miss Pearson was seen laughing and running through the ball room, brandishing a sword, and being chased by yet another of the officers. Caroline Bingley saw the scornful looks being directed at Agnes; she was astonished at her cousin's forwardness and felt mortified at the relation. More appalling, even Lydia Bennet had her mouth covered by her hand and she appeared to be unsuccessfully stifling loud laughter.

'Is there no way to stop this?' Caroline begged the girl's brother.

In a phlegmatic voice, James replied, 'Lina, what are we to do? I own that it _is_ terribly embarrassing but John and I have found no way to restrain her, aside from shutting poor Agnes up in the house. We believe her to be one of the silliest girls in all of England.'

The blush and pained look on his countenance belied his disinterested tone; it also matched quite neatly the face of his companion, who murmured determinedly, 'Be certain that we _shall_ talk more on this later.'

The music soon restarted and into the activity they proceeded as if nothing were amiss. Miss Bingley had to admit enjoying the sight of Elizabeth Bennet less than happily dancing with her cousin, who, if talk was to believed, not only was to inherit Longbourn but was also to marry one of the Bennet sisters. It was not enough to cause Caroline to forget _her_ cousin's behavior but it assuredly helped in lifting her spirits. For Caroline, the evening could not end rapidly enough; she had no desire to further expose the vulgar failings of her own relations to the local society.

Although Mr. Collins' performance was acceptable and not to be found too wanting, Elizabeth could not rally herself to seem pleased, for she was simply dancing - dancing! - when _that man_ was stalking after another victim. She could see him creeping about, entranced by the whirling skirts and gracefully flowing limbs. But no! She must remember Philidor and his assertion that on occasion a pawn must draw out one piece in order to force another markedly more important to reveal itself. As the fundamental principles of combat on the checker'd field are rather similar to those of the battlefield, she recognized the imprudence in ignoring such wisdom.

Moreover, she had not seen Eldon thus far tonight, which, knowing his opinion of the Bingley's cousins, was worrisome.

When the imposing longcase clock in the hall began to chime twelve, Mr. Collins drew near the Bennet ladies and declared with visible discomfort, 'My most profound apologies, Madam. It is unfortunate that, though I have as great an enjoyment of a convivial ball as any, my constitution is not quite vigorous enough for a protracted period of dancing. I must humbly beg your leave to remove myself from this festive event and return to Longbourn.'

With a gracious smile, Mrs. Bennet placed her hand upon his arm and answered, 'Why, Mr. Collins! We cannot have the neighborhood believe our family to be lacking in common decency so as to abandon a relation in need. I would be honored to accompany you. Let me but speak with the person who will see to my daughters and then we shall be off.'

She then turned to a somber Mrs. Phillips, who had approached but minutes prior to the uncomfortable cleric, and remarked with energy, 'Oh sister! You know what is to be done - we have done this countless times, you see, Mr. Collins - and I thank you for your help.'

The news that circulated on the subsequent morning was astonishing: While the good citizens of Meryton and its surrounding environs had been engaged in honest pursuits, such as merry making or perhaps even slumber, a small band of miscreants had attempted, with some savagery, to set upon a home filled with unsuspecting innocents. The malefactors had _tried_ but they had not succeeded in pillaging and burning the family and its modest house, for the Watchers had doused the lit torches brought for that express purpose and had called out a warning to those in immediate danger.

From the accounts being spread - and reckoned as directly heard from the grateful family - the Watchers came, surrounded the villains and with great rapidity, dispatched three of the four from this world. The last rogue was rendered harmless by injury and then captured, bound for prison and interrogation. To the disappointment of many, however, aside from the particulars given of the rescue, none were any wiser as to the identities of these renowned heroes.


	12. Chapter 12

**Just an FYI - next post will pick up where this one is leaving off.**

Chapter 12

After the excitement of the ball and the joyous report of another act of bravery by the champions of Hertfordshire, the next two days passed rather uneventfully. That is, until a note from Netherfield was received by Mrs. Bennet that sent her into a hysteria.

'Leaving, Mr. Bennet! How could such an amiable man choose the worst of times to leave! Why, in this note - even though he _does_ beg pardon for the haste - not a word of Jane or when he will return. This is simply not to be borne!'

The noise catching her attention, Elizabeth came to inquire as to the momentous event that had occasioned this outburst. She found her mother, seated between a patient Jane and Mary, waving about a letter and loudly objecting to the contents of said correspondence.

Mr. Bennet entered and asked, ' _Who_ has sent you a note, Mrs. Bennet? And what has this to do with our Jane?'

'It is Mrs. Hurst,' cried his wife, 'She has written me that Mr. Bingley is gone and she knows not precisely where. Her brother has left without even bidding our family a proper farewell other than what he expressed to his sister to relay and after he showed _such_ marked attentions to Jane.' After a few minutes of incoherent exclamations, she continued with more calm, 'However, Mrs. Hurst has also said that as no ladies remain in Netherfield beside herself, could we spare our two eldest to visit with her today? I am certain that _both_ girls can go and I shall accept her generous invitation.' Having come to a decision, Mrs. Bennet was noticeably happier and bustled off to pen her reply.

Elizabeth was intrigued - what had occurred to cause such an exodus that Mrs. Hurst was the sole lady in residence? Were the gentlemen present, as well? Curiosity was further piqued by her mother all but ordering Elizabeth to accompany Jane. Perchance this was an opportunity to discover information; however, confusion remained in her mind regarding Mr. Collins and the injunction that she maintain a consistent presence near him. No, Mrs. Bennet surely had a plan, as always.

On their arrival at Netherfield, it became evident to both Bennet ladies the true cause of Louisa Hurst's invitation: James Pearson and Caroline Bingley were gone. They had absconded unseen late in the night for an undisclosed destination and, on the rest of the house rising in the morning, chaos had ensued. Whether they had left of their own accord or whether they had been induced by some suspicious individual with nefarious intent, was not known. As they spoke more with the flustered Mrs. Hurst, she explained that her brother had become quite agitated with the news and immediately insisted upon riding out with all speed to the Pearson estate in search of the missing couple, with Mr. Darcy accompanying his friend.

'Did Miss Bingley or Mr. Pearson pen a note to inform you of their departure and eventual destination?' Elizabeth asked. It seemed rather odd that two persons could disappear with nary a whisper anywhere of such foul designs, prompting her to further inquire, 'I hesitate to ask as the notion is horrid, but was there any indication that your sister did not wish to go?'

Shaking her head, Mrs. Hurst replied, 'We have searched through Caroline's and James' apartments and found nothing. Not an hour ago, Mr. Hurst likewise mentioned the possibility of unpleasantness and, as you can well comprehend, the thought is too distressing to me.' She could speak no more and brought a handkerchief to her face.

Jane glanced at her sister, who nodded, before gently placing her arm around Mrs. Hurst's shoulders and escorting the quietly weeping woman to the closest parlor. Elizabeth remembered from their previous stay the placement of Mr. Bingley's study and proceeded there forthwith, believing it likely that a note, if one were present, would have an appreciable chance of being found in the study, as opposed to one of the bedchambers. To place correspondence in one's rooms was essentially to say that it was private and not to be read; whereas, if one wished their letter found, the desk in master's study was a most rational location and highly conducive to gaining attention.

Elizabeth entered the study, looking first on the polished surface for confirmation that what she sought was to be seen, but there was a noticeable dearth of papers on any surface. She then walked toward the windows, taking note of the slight draft that streamed in which caused the drapes to flutter.

To flutter.

Almost running, she hurried back to the desk and began to examine the adjacent floor. There - lying beside one of the carved wooden legs so that only a corner was visible, a folded paper. She seized it and, unfolding the unsealed epistle, read the entirety in a few astonished moments. Mrs. Hurst was in dire need of this communication, as it provided hope and direction for the searchers; thus, Elizabeth hastened to the parlor where Jane was sitting with the married woman.

'- and John brought Agnes home. To keep her safe, he said. Hmph! I don't know if he was so terribly concerned or if he was more worried that she would do something imprudent. The officers will not be decamping until nearer spring and all of our family knows how very much Agnes adores a man in uniform. So _brave_ , she says. So _handsome_ , she says. So foolish, _I_ say.'

Elizabeth stood outside the parlor, listening to Mrs. Hurst speaking animatedly with Jane and she was once again in awe at her elder sister's aptitude for cajoling confidences out of even the most intractable person. Not for the first time did she puzzle over where Jane had learned this remarkably beneficial skill.

On entering, she announced, 'I believe that I may have found something that may be of interest to Mrs. Hurst.' The two ladies looked up at her in anticipation and she held out the folded note to the troubled woman.

'What!?' exclaimed Louisa Hurst, reading the words, 'I cannot believe it of _her_. Truly, I am all astonishment. Miss Elizabeth, many thanks to you for recovering this letter for, had I not seen her writing with my own eyes, I would not have supposed it of them. Oh! That my brother should return soon; he will know better what to do.'

With a small sad laugh, she murmured, 'Oh Caroline!'

The men arrived and Mrs. Hurst cried, 'Charles! You must see what Miss Elizabeth has found - a letter from Caroline. Here -' and she thrust the paper into Mr. Bingley's hand.

That gentleman read the short missive and began to laugh. 'Well, Darcy, it appears that our trip was entirely unnecessary. Caroline has eloped with James Pearson. I must say that I am not altogether taken unawares; if you had seen her countenance while the ball, then you might have presumed she would find a way to flee. That she and James chose to elope does amaze me - I believed her to wish for a more common-place method of marrying.'

At the confusion on Jane's face, Mr. Bingley explained, 'Our two families are cousins and it was a great desire of our grandfathers to see our families closely connected. Caroline and James' betrothal is of a rather peculiar kind, as neither has spoken of it at any length but we all assumed that they would one day marry. Much as it may be considered duty, I imagine that their affection for each other is strong enough to allow such a hasty plan.'

From another corner of the room, a voice unexpectedly came. 'Will John return to Netherfield? Or will he remain with his sister in their home?' It was Mr. Hurst.

Mrs. Hurst looked at him, quite startled. 'I did not see you enter with Charles and Mr. Darcy. Did you ride with them?' she queried.

With some discomposure, he answered, 'When they headed northward, I turned to investigate in a different direction, thinking that we could examine the countryside more fully if we three took dissimilar paths. On finding nothing of note, I rode back.'

As Mr. Hurst was explaining, Mr. Darcy moved unobtrusively near enough to Elizabeth for him to say in a low tone, 'I have chosen to accept your offer of assistance. Perhaps we might speak further on what this might entail?'

With a nod, Elizabeth acknowledged his request.

After enjoying an afternoon with a grateful Mrs. Hurst and no additional revelations, Jane and Elizabeth were escorted to Longbourn by Mr. Darcy, who claimed business of some sort with Mr. Bennet. Mrs. Bennet was to come back shortly, for she had gone to visit her sister Phillips in preparation for that afternoon's card party; Mr. Darcy soon found himself seated in Mr. Bennet's bookroom, awaiting her return.

Presently, there came the sound of voices and footsteps approaching; the door moved and in walked a rather timid-looking . . . . _George Wickham!_ Mr. Darcy was incensed - how had his greatest enemy happened into the one bookroom in England where Darcy himself was to be found? He cared no longer for his cousin the Colonel's advice regarding the Bennets. Mr. Wickham's own shocked countenance gave him no pause, for he did not doubt that this meeting was deliberately done. Standing, he opened his mouth to give free rein to his displeasure when someone spoke.

'Please _do_ be seated, Mr. Darcy. Mr. Wickham, you may take the chair aside Mr. Bennet.' The words were uttered quietly but firmly, leaving neither man wishing to disobey. In the darkened corner stood Mrs. Bennet, who continued, 'Perhaps Mr. Darcy, you should explain your mutual history with Mr. Wickham to Mr. Bennet and myself. Mr. Wickham, you may speak when this gentleman is finished.'

Thus, Mr. Darcy repeated much of his previous speech regarding his journeying to Hertfordshire and seeking the aid of the Bennets; however, he now saw fit to include George Wickham's name as the wrong-doer. To the great man's tremendous incredulity, the officer neither argued nor made any effort to defend himself and, instead, hung his head as if in shame - but Darcy knew that he _must_ be dissembling, for George Wickham was not one to feel mortification for his actions.

On receiving Mrs. Bennet's permission to speak, Mr. Wickham shockingly concurred with his former friend as to his proclivities of old and described how he had begun upon a far better path:

It was not long after he had received the bequest and recompense for the living from Darcy that George Wickham took himself off to London, seeking to increase his fortune, but money in the hands of one with such expensive and vicious tendencies could not last terribly long. After a relatively short time, he fell into quite straitened and desperate circumstances and sought out a former acquaintance in hopes that this fellow would know of a place where the money was ample and the effort necessary was nominal. It was through this man that Wickham had been directed to an estate in the southeastern corner of England; a nicely sized property that boasted of an attentive Mistress with several lucrative positions to be had.

These positions were entertaining and only occasionally taxing; however, being in this person's employ also brought Wickham into frequent contact with others of her household, namely, the Mistress's daughter. This young lady was an intelligent creature but often lonely, with none other than a companion and her mother for company. She was the one to seek him out, curious if the hints of wit and sense that he displayed ran deeper than a facade. She was drawn by his engaging manners, believing that he was not an evil person, per se, but one who required an inducement to follow good principles.

Secretly, they met on occasion at first, then with increasing frequency as time passed. Her interest in the why and wherefore of his activities elsewhere, particularly in London, was acute and he began to become chagrined of having to answer her forthright questions with the shameful truth, for he did not wish to mortify this ingenuous young woman or injure her opinion of him. Over a period - it came to about a year - they became fast, albeit surreptitious, friends and Wickham found that his desire to live as he had before was slipping away apace.

Their friendship remained steady until one momentous day. He had been given an assignment which might have pleased him immensely not a year ago but now placed him in a predicament and so he consulted his friend. She was appalled at the instruction but they worked together to determine a way that he could perform his duty, while protecting any innocents. It was during their scheming that both were astonished to find a mutual attachment - he was unbelieving in his deservedness of affection, being an imperfect vessel and with _such_ a history of grievous sins; she, who was perpetually looked-over as her health was not good above half the time, was astounded that a man of vitality and understanding should look at her with fondness.

Their plan was not perfect but it was far, far better than what his employer wished him to do: He was being sent to remove an obstacle or, more accurately, to introduce a lever that an unscrupulous person might pull to their advantage alone. A naive young lady with little knowledge of the cruelty that one could inflict upon another was to journey to the seashore for a holiday. Her companion was known to George Wickham's employer; thus, he was given direction on her actions down to the minutest detail. He was to convince her to run off with him, to cause her to believe it an elopement so that he could bring her to his employer's home. The girl was then to be kept as a hostage and used as an instrument to force her brother's hand.

The newly betrothed pair felt that he must bring her not to the estate but, to protect her, to London where disappearing was a far simpler venture. The question was where? Where would be an appropriately safe location? The Mistress' daughter had a small amount of money that was hidden and unknown to all others. Utilizing these meager funds, he would have to find the girl's brother, who would need to be approached and persuaded of the danger. This was likely to be the greatest difficulty in the plan, for there was an unpleasant past between the two men.


	13. Chapter 13

As Mr. Wickham continued his narrative, it was clear to any who knew Fitzwilliam Darcy that he had unraveled the identities of the unnamed individuals and was enraged. It was also unavoidably obvious that he did not believe a single word of the other man's tale.

He coldly asked, 'Shall I hazard a guess, Wickham, as to what is to come next in your account? The girl's brother, having previously arranged to visit his young sister, chose to surprise her by arriving a day early. By doing so, he inadvertently happened upon the _rescue_ effort and mistook it for an astonishingly ill-advised scheme of elopement; this impression was supported by the excited young lady's wish to reveal her plans to her elder brother, hoping for his blessing.'

Here he stopped but momentarily and closed his eyes. Reopening them, he resumed with feeling, 'Am I to credit _you_ \- and in addition to your many abhorrent actions in our younger days, you remain the man who refused the living offered you in my father's will and went on to deceive innumerable persons as to our mutual roles in that arrangement - with such a benevolent intention? Do I look a _fool_ to you?' At that, he arose and walked away from the chairs to stand in front of a bookcase, examining the titles of the books found there without ever truly seeing them.

After several minutes of silence, Darcy's irate voice came again. 'More distressing a question is how did you persuade Anne of your possessing a modicum of worth? She is the granddaughter of an Earl and, as I am _certain_ you well know, her inheritance is quite substantial. What are you to her? The son of Pemberley's late steward, in opposition to her noble lineage? It is a disparagement. My disappointment, though, is in my cousin; she is usually more discerning and not easily misled by agreeable manners.'

On hearing his beloved's name, Mr. Wickham sat straighter in his chair and the other occupants of the bookroom could see his indignation on her behalf. 'You may speak as you wish, sir, on myself for I have never given you reason to think well of me, but do not slander my wife. She is a good woman and does not deserve your wrath. As to your other charge, do you not recall my father mentioning his cousin's property? It is how he became so proficient in his position. My grandfather was the younger son of Longstone Hall and my father was but a third son of _his_ , with no hope of inheriting. In his youth, my father would often visit Longstone at the bidding of his uncle and he thus learned much about the running of an estate.'

Observing that Mr. Darcy was not prepared to converse civilly with her other guest, Mrs. Bennet inquired calmly, 'Your wife, Mr. Wickham? You had not yet gotten to that part of your narrative. Pray continue.'

As he was to be absent for a prolonged period, his betrothed determined that they should marry prior to his departure. They called upon the elderly cleric in a nearby village whom the daughter of the estate had befriended and he agreed to covertly perform the ceremony in three weeks' time. The banns were to be read but silently, so that the requirement was fulfilled without the threat of discovery. On the appointed day, she was to take her daily drive through the park and he would meet her just outside of the estate boundary. All went according to design and they returned man and wife. There had been precisely one occasion where they had semblance enough of solitude to fortify themselves against the imminent separation.

Despite their discretion, on the path back to house, they were met by several large men known to be in the employ of his wife's mother, who requested the immediate attendance of the couple. Left with no recourse but to accede, they accompanied the guards into a chamber preferred by the Mistress for its decor and the thickness of its doors and walls. There, they learned that the penalty for disobedience would customarily be death but, in this case, there were significant extenuating circumstances.

He had been charged with a task and, in his employer's opinion, he was the only person equal to accomplishing this undertaking. To assure herself of his loyalty and cooperation, however, the Mistress of the estate warned him that his beloved would be incarcerated and treated as a prisoner until he returned, successful. With an inducement such as this, it was unsurprising that he set off immediately to complete his mission.

Continuing his tale, Wickham commented, 'As you have likely ascertained, my trip was _not_ successful. Darcy arrived just prior to our departure and removed his sister from my care before I could explain the situation in its entirety. Even now, I cannot promise with any certainty that she is altogether safe. My employer was not best pleased on my return and, thus, Mrs. Wickham remains locked in her rooms with no trusted conduit to ensure her health and comfort -'

'So it is true? You have wed my cousin?' Although the question was asked with impatience, Mr. Darcy did not wait for a reply to his interruption and said, mostly to himself, 'But could it be?'

As often occurred, there was truth in Wickham's look but Fitzwilliam Darcy knew him well enough to discern whether this was his usual practiced truth of an experienced deceiver; no, as Darcy examined his countenance, he could detect only honesty and perhaps - concern? Possibly even fear?

That was a novel and rather unsettling thought.

'If your words are accurate, Anne is being held captive by my aunt, her own _mother_. Unbelievable as your marriage might be, portraying Lady Catherine de Bourgh as an unfeeling, uncaring intriguer of the worst _kind_ is beyond the pale. I had rather thought that to be your bailiwick.'

Struck by another thought, Mr. Darcy rapidly strode from his stance near the bookshelves and came to stand directly in front of George Wickham. He placed his hands on the arms of the seated man's chair and leant down, stopping merely inches from the other's face.

'Wickham - _what are you doing here_? Let us suppose that I accept all that you have said - then to what purpose _precisely_ were you sent to Meryton?'

Mr. Wickham's countenance became pallid and frightened and he glanced at all occupants of the room before responding, 'I . . . ah, I have not quite finished my explanation. It is just . . . that is . . . . oh d-.'

Stopping and clearing his throat, he turned toward Mr. and Mrs. Bennet and said in a pleading tone, ' _You_ comprehend my dilemma and why I was all but forced to seek out your group? I was given two choices: fulfill my orders or return and be killed - then what would become of my wife? She will be wholly at the mercy of her ruthless mother.'

'And the Mistress of that estate wished you to do what, Mr. Wickham?' quizzed an attentive Mrs. Bennet.

With an ashamed expression, Wickham muttered, 'To halt your league and to kidnap Darcy.' At that man's outraged exclamation, he explained further, 'There were two assignments given and both were of equal importance to my employer. She had desired to conduct business on several of the most lucrative roads but had been told of the difficulty in this locale for any wrong-doing to occur. In consequence, a number of her men have been stationed in this area for a short while to determine the origin of the difficulty. It appears that the closer to Meryton, the more rapid the reply to any assault; ergo, we have been sent to this specific place to discover the exact peoples who are causing such an interruption of her schemes. We were to begin our search with the principal families of the neighborhood. Mr. Bennet, your cousin is on a similar mission as myself; however, his I believe to be of a more murderous nature than my own.'

 _As a lion raises its head from a kill still steaming, maw stained and dripping with the gore of what had been living but a short time before, wondering who would dare to interrupt its meal, so this beast slowly turned its attention from the bound and bloody figure lying motionless on a table. His garments and self were stained and splattered; the knife in his hand was coated in crimson. Most frightening of all was the sound of his laughter, his vicious laughter amidst such butchery.._

 _The young man opening the door to this small cabin had come in search of the source of the distressing cries reverberating throughout the surrounding park but could not move, could not comprehend the sight that met his eyes on stepping through the door frame._

 _Before he could aim his rifle at the intruder, the miscreant gave another chilling laugh and all but threw himself past the young man. There was no time to shoot; now he was present, now he was not. For one who had been reared on this estate, the notion of such an evil person to have this great a familiarity with the land? It was deeply alarming._

 _The young master advanced into the room, in part morbidly curious and in part affrighted of the poor girl who had the grave misfortune of having known that fiend, for though the unclad body was covered in blood as if in a garment, she had undoubtedly been female. He walked forward, wondering if this person had relations who would be concerned about her continued absence, and if there were aught he could do. He knew there were blankets to be found in the far corner; she should not have to face death in this manner. Incapable of taking a deep breath for the smell and the fear and the terrible tension, he kept his eyes on all that he could see of her head as he crept closer. He carefully covered her up to her neck, as if any person could mistake her as sleeping; he happened to truly notice her features._

 _And began screaming, unable to stop._

The next afternoon, Lydia and Kitty were out walking along a little used lane when they encountered Mr. Denny and Mr. Wickham in earnest conversation but on noticing the sisters, they moved to greet the young ladies. In two pairs they strolled until Lydia saw that her sister and Mr. Denny had slowed and wandered off the path. Using hand signals known only to these two girls, Kitty let her sister know that she and Mr. Denny would rejoin Lydia soon, possibly about ten or fifteen minutes hence.

Seeing an opportunity to impress Mr. Wickham, Lydia began to flirt outrageously, for she was certain that he could not fail to be fascinated. When the handsome officer replied that he would rather she not do that, she was puzzled. Did not every man, unless he was married - and even certain of _those_ \- wish a little flirtation?

Mr. Wickham was about to disabuse her of that notion when they heard others approaching and Lydia was prepared to call for her sister to hurry. But the people did not sound like Kitty and Mr. Denny. Recognizing one of the voices and warning Lydia to be perfectly quiet, Wickham pulled her quickly away from the lane and surveyed their immediate surroundings for possible spots in which to hide. Not _there_. . . . . not _there_ . . . . . aha!

Some short steps away but overgrown and partly obscured, he saw a worn footbridge spanning the dry bed of what appeared to have been at one time a nicely-sized stream. The strength of fright gave him speed and they were safely secreted in the leafy greenness and shadows beneath the bridge.

It was none too soon. Two men strode along the small road, stepping without care for discretion, as if they were certain that not another soul was about, and stopped on spying the old footbridge.

'Ah, here's the nasty thing. We can talk now for there in't any around. I tell you, it in't usual. We's losing men and I can' stop it. Her Ladyship said this was a good area for business but I don' know if she's right this time. I think we should jus' go and tell her to find another place.' Lydia's eyes were wide open, unlike her mouth, which moved slightly but remained very much closed. Despite being shut, Wickham could hear a faint hiss from her which resolved into a faintly audible 'That is _Mr. Collins_?!' He nodded but placed his finger upon his mouth to indicate continued silence.

The other fellow responded, 'This used to be a good spot. But I've been gone for a while - it has been upwards of two years - so I cannot speak to whether it persists in being an easy target.'

Mr. Collins queried, 'Whad you do, Pearson? It could not ha' been too bad or you would not be in England now.'

'For that,' answered Mr. Pearson, 'It is simple. She was the daughter of some attorney - Phipps? Phillips? - and she said that she did not do 'those types of things'. Oh, she did after a bit of persuasion but I could not have her talk later, so she had to be gotten rid of. I had to leave for a while because people were asking questions.'

The two men spoke for another five minutes plotting further actions before removing from the immediate vicinity. When Mr. Wickham advised that it was finally safe to emerge from under the bridge's beams, Lydia all but exploded in fury.

'Pearson! He killed her! That . . . that depraved, low, common pile of _rubbish_. I will do the same to him and worse.' Lydia did not realize but, in that moment of fury, she greatly resembled her sister Elizabeth.

Feeling that here was a detail of import, Mr. Wickham asked carefully, 'You knew the girl?'

'Oh certainly! Her name is Rachel Phillips - not _Phipps_ , the stupid fool - and she is my cousin. Her mother is sister to my mother. But -' Her words ceased and Lydia became still; she was contemplating something. Shortly, she shuddered and picked up again, 'We must go to my mother. Now. She has to know what we heard.'

Mr. Darcy found himself walking behind Longbourn, escorted by Elizabeth Bennet at the behest of that lady's mother, through the trees and toward the hidden barn. He was displeased with the outcome of his earlier interview but recognized that his intention in returning to Longbourn was, in fact, to do what he was now about to embark upon - gleaning all he could regarding the Watchers' methods and ways. He felt deeply unsettled, for his stated purpose in this county was to protect his land and people from the likes of George Wickham. But Wickham, according to his testimony, no longer wished to be a threat. Could he trust the man's word?

As they walked, Elizabeth realized that her role as guide to Mr. Darcy necessitated patience and politeness; they therefore must have some speech together, even if it be inane.

'Mr. Darcy, you are from Derbyshire; perhaps you have heard of a town called Lambton? My aunt, wife to my mother's brother, spent part of her life there and she swears by the untamed beauty of the area.' Elizabeth assumed that he could hardly decline to discuss environs familiar, and likely dear, to himself.

He replied, 'I do know of the town for it is but five miles from Pemberley and am in agreement with your aunt's assessment of the county. It has a wildness to it that is a pleasing contrast to the ordered squares of the breadbasket counties.'

'As you appreciate the place, does that imply that you prefer to spend most of your time at your home? For if the question were put to me, I would assure you that I am awfully partial to Hertfordshire as my residence over other locales and would endeavor to remain in its borders more often than not. The favor of a place dwells in its inhabitants, does it not?' asked she.

'Ah, he answered, 'But you have not seen enough of the kingdom to compare, have you? On visiting other districts, you might discover that the fascination for those features so loved in one site is diminished when compared to the characteristics of a different region.'

It must have been the uneasy state of the gentleman's emotions and his near to complete distraction that caused him to be almost entirely unguarded in his replies; consequently, Elizabeth found her conversation with Mr. Darcy to be almost agreeable in this instance and she was astonished at his well-hidden but pleasant ability. However, her opinion was quite settled on this score: He was a difficult man, one who could find little with which to be satisfied and could not be an enjoyable companion. He disliked her and disdained the necessary efforts of the Watchmen; how could she find anything to admire in such a man?

Rather unexpectedly, Mr. Darcy asked, 'How ever did your family determine to begin the Watchmen? I had intended to inquire of Mrs. Bennet today but . . . . . was unable.'

' _Pardon?_ ' Elizabeth was too shocked at his presumption for further speech, which went unnoticed as Mr. Darcy had not yet finished speaking.

'Was it simply too many thefts? Truly, it must have been something quite ghastly -' but he got no further, for Elizabeth turned to him in great anger; her curled fists held tightly to her sides so as not to strike him .

'Sir, I have been asked to give you the respect due to a guest and a gentleman. But I find myself unable to do so when you unfeelingly ask home questions and in the most reprehensible and callous manner. Perhaps it might best if we were to return to my mother and request that she send another in my place for I do not feel equal to your presence any longer.' Thus saying, she turned away from their destination and began walking with all rapidity back to Longbourn.

'Wait, Miss Bennet,' called out Darcy, 'I beg you.' The entreaty and absence of his usual indifferent tone was so uncommon that Elizabeth halted her progress and rotated to face the gentleman, though _she_ would not be the one to close the distance. He approached her with caution, looking somewhat discomfited, and said with stiff formality, 'It was not my intention to injure you and I extend my apologies if my conduct was lacking. If it is too distressing for you to explain, please disregard my inquiry.'

Not completely satisfied - but recognizing what his admission must have cost the proud man - she nodded and agreed to continue on toward their original goal. However, she remained irritated with him and pledged to herself that no more speech than was necessary would cross her lips.


	14. Chapter 14

For the last several days, Lydia had appeared particularly pleased with herself and Elizabeth wondered at her sister's temperament; for, although Lydia was frequently gay, her recent bout of complacency was rather singular. Determined to uncover the reason, Elizabeth requested Lydia to walk with her in the park for it was a fine day.

Before Elizabeth could begin her questions, Lydia laughed and declared, 'Lizzy, if you wished to speak with me alone, you could simply have asked. I am not so averse to private speech as you might believe.'

'If you already know that I wish to speak with you, are you also aware of my chosen topic?' Elizabeth did not wish to sound quite so pettish, but this particular sister tended to bring out the worst in herself.

Waving her hand like a grand lady, Lydia replied, 'Oh! I can certainly guess. You think that I know something that you do not and it annoys you. You've always been thus.'

Frustrated, Elizabeth exclaimed, 'Right. If you do not wish to tell me, I shall go. It could not have been that terribly important, after all.' She turned her back on Lydia and began to walk in the opposite direction but halted on Lydia calling to her.

'Lizzy - wait. Please. I will tell you, but it is far more fun teasing you a bit first.' Odd, Elizabeth thought. Had not Mr. Darcy also recently asked her to hold up when she had wished to stomp off in anger? And now Lydia. It could _not_ be that she angered too quickly, for her temper was much the same as it ever was.

Sighing, she said, 'You have teased me and that much is accomplished. Would you care to explain why, for close to a week, you have looked like the cat that got the cream? Does this have to do with your all but running home some days ago, dragging poor Mr. Wickham along? You were then absent for upwards of an hour and I heard you loudly demanding information of our mother.'

The grin that had been sitting in comfort on Lydia's face disappeared and was replaced by its less pleasant cousin. ' _This_ is how you obtain your knowledge - by listening in hallways to the private conversations of others? I am not at all impressed, Lizzy.'

Elizabeth became concerned that her ill-considered words had stopped Lydia from sharing what their mother had said, but Lydia, after a reflective instant more, resumed speaking in a triumphant tone. 'You wish to know what Mama told me, do you not? It was no less than the _truth_ of Rachel's death. She did not die of an illness, as we were told; no, she was killed and by a Pearson, no less! I was out with Kitty and Mr. Wickham and Denny; we had to hide under that old, unused footbridge near the far woods - the one where we had left the frog in the hood of _that_ blue cape. Mr. Collins was talking to John Pearson - it _must_ be John, for James disappeared at the same time as Caroline and they eloped, you know. Caroline Bingley _eloped_! I could not stop myself from laughing. - and Mr. Collins was complaining that nothing could get done in this neighborhood and he had been told specifically this was a good place to do certain things. I am sure that I have no idea what things he meant but that is simply what he said.'

Following the entirety of Lydia's speech was quite the effort but, as Elizabeth discovered, well worth her time. Incredulous, she queried, 'You - and presumably the others with whom you were walking - were capable of concealing yourselves in the greenery beneath that footbridge? Did the officers ensure you and Kitty were more greatly shadowed than themselves?' At Lydia's definite nod of agreement, she resumed, 'And you were able to glean these particulars from their exchange? Did they converse in a usual tone or was there an attempt at disguise by quieter speech?'

As if Elizabeth had not spoken further, Lydia then continued, 'After hearing their words, I knew that we had to seek out my mother, for I realized that she had not told us truly about Rachel. She was _killed_ , Lizzy! Our own cousin - can you believe such a thing? It is the sort of fantastic event that happens in London and you find in the newspaper but never occurs in our tedious little neighborhood. I brought Wickham to Longbourn but he did not wish to enter; he preferred to return to his quarters and left me alone to discover the answers I sought. Now that I think on it, though, I believe Mr. Wickham must be desperately in love with his wife or betrothed, for he showed no inclination toward me, which is a shame for I do so love a dashing and handsome man.'

Holding her breath and counting the clouds floating across the sky could not quell Elizabeth's irritation with her younger sister. Why could Lydia not come to the point? Were her varied thoughts the greatest share of her dialogues? She almost asked just that question but stopped, becoming cognizant that in this Lydia was similar to herself, for neither enjoyed being all but ordered to do something. Of a certainty, when Mrs. Bennet charged Elizabeth with an assignment, she assuredly did as she was told - but that had not come about with ease. It had taken a few months for Elizabeth to simply trust that her mother knew best and there was no discussion to be held on the subject. No, it had taken more than a few months. It had taken almost ruining one of their undertakings, delayed as it was by Elizabeth's need to fully understand her mother's rationale for their actions. Subsequent to that day and in remembrance of the almost-failure and her mortification, she now did as she was asked, when her mother asked.

'Lydia,' said Elizabeth, heedful to gentle her tone from the impatience she felt, 'what did our mother say to you? Did she impart why we were not told the true circumstances of our cousin's demise?'

'And did she never account of it to you? La, this is too amusing - I am the first of my sisters to know! If you truly wish to understand, Mama informed me it was a lesson on how guarding your virtue can sometimes be the same as guarding your life and that we should never do a thing simply because those who are unconnected to ourselves have said that we must. She said that Rachel would oft put herself forward to greet newcomers to Meryton - our aunt and uncle's home is directly on the main street, so they could see everyone coming and going and Aunt Philips _is_ a great gossip. Mama and Papa had warned her not to talk quite so much with people that were not well known to our family, for you just never can truly know with whom you are speaking. Mama said it was unfortunate Rachel's friends had a rivalry to determine who could catch the eye of the most gentlemen.'

At that, Elizabeth started and exclaimed, unbelieving, 'Pardon? They were doing _**what**_?' She could not credit that the cousin with whom she and Jane had spent many enjoyable years could act in such a manner and to think that a foolish game was the means to introduce Rachel to the sort of animal to have killed her - it was incredible and more than her mind could conceive. How thin the line between life and death!

Lydia, quite serious now, nodded her head and replied, 'Shocking, is it not? I did not believe Mama at first for I felt certain our aunt and uncle would not have permitted such a thing but after a little thought, I understood that I could not presume the rules of our house to be the rules in another's house, even if they _are_ our close relations. Did neither you nor Jane know of this competition? You were both frequently in company with Rachel -'

'But Jane and I were not to be in the company of her supposed friends,' Elizabeth interposed, 'for Mama and Papa would not countenance their presence. They explained that, as our cousin, Rachel was permissible as a companion but those with whom she associated were not. It was quite difficult to follow such dictates but . . . . . needs must.' Her tone was circumspect but Lydia could hear more behind the caution; could that be frustration?

Curious, she asked, 'Lizzy, do you not agree? Were the girls kinder or nicer than our mother and father thought?'

After a moment, Elizabeth replied with no little bitterness, 'If I am vexed, it is at myself for misunderstanding the truth and it is at the foolishness in supposing _my_ reasoning to be more sound than that of our parents. They did try to warn Jane and I of the dangers inherent in allowing others power over your thoughts and better judgement but I was too blind to apprehend that they were not speaking in generalities. Jane was as she is now - not one to see the faults in others; thus, the burden of cognizance was left to me and I failed to recognize the peril.'

The sisters were silent for several minutes, each pondering all that had been said. Lydia appeared perplexed and she suddenly burst out with, 'You did not seem so terribly upset that Rachel was murdered but more that I was . . that Kitty and I were in jeopardy. She was our cousin and your friend but you are not at all astonished. It is almost as if you already . . . . no, it could not be!' With that, her expression went from confused to furious. 'Lizzy, you _knew_! And you did not see fit to tell your sisters?! Are we _nothing_ to you?' Lydia was overcome, unable to say more; however, instead of running off in anger, she remained, watching Elizabeth closely and with great feeling.

Elizabeth could not but be impressed by Lydia's perception and hold on her temper. It brought to mind when she, Elizabeth, used to act in a similar fashion, which begot a multitude of other thoughts, begging to be examined. Chief among those ideas was simply, Why? Why had she taken to rather childish displays of displeasure? What had caused her changed inclination?

Recognizing that Lydia was waiting impatiently and her thoughts could be deferred until another time, she responded with some embarrassment, 'It is not an easy answer that you seek. If I had been permitted, I would have told my sisters all but was forbidden to speak of the subject, until such day as either our mother or father were to open the topic. From your look, though, you will not be satisfied with such a reply. To explain more fully, I knew no more than yourself when that _horrid_ thing happened. Do you recall that some visitors commented on her shroud and how its thickness prevented all from discerning her features? There were those who believed our family to be engaging in wrongdoing or that we were foolhardy for choosing that heavy a wool. I had . . . . . '

She closed her eyes for an instant, covering them with her hand, to regain her composure; remembrance of that day had lost none of its overwhelming and powerful grief. Speech could wait, for Elizabeth could not yet speak.

Soon enough, she was enough in command of herself to relate what had occurred: She had been curious and unable to accept that Rachel, who had only two days earlier sworn her younger cousin to silence on the subject of an unnamed gentleman whom she had confessed to fancy, was well and truly gone, Elizabeth had snuck in and stealthily watched while they were moving the enshrouded body on display in her Aunt and Uncle Phillip's home. As they were placing it in the coffin, the shroud slipped and revealed to her horrified eyes a gray-white face that looked hideously like Rachel's own. Worse than the appalling proof of a beloved relation's death were the purple and black bruises that desecrated the otherwise perfect whiteness of the once-beautiful countenance.

Elizabeth had run directly home and demanded of her mother and then her father - likely in quite the same manner as Lydia - how Rachel had died, for she would no longer accept a sudden illness as the reason. For an entire day, they had refused to account for what she had seen but when she persisted, they informed her that there had indeed been treachery involved. It took another week of perseverance before she had as much of the story as could be gained.

Mrs. Bennet had quizzed at length several of Rachel's close acquaintance and discovered the principal points. Rachel had thought herself on the cusp of betrothal to John Pearson, as they met with regularity and she considered him as affected as herself. In her absence, he denied any serious intentions and would laugh at her pretensions, assuring his listeners that he had precisely one reason for cultivating her good will. In her presence, he acted the part of a loyal and loving suitor, attentive to her every whim.

Between these two extremes, Rachel and Pearson ensured that they were not seen in frequent company - if ever - so as not to give away any hint of their connection. She had supposed it to be because he did not wish the news of their attachment to be heard by his family before he had asked that all-important question and she had answered it in the positive. As claimed by Rachel's friends, she had last been seen prior to an arranged appointment with her beloved and she had confided that she expected to return to them affianced, leaving her companions very much in anticipation of their next meeting.

She did not attend their gathering that evening and none of her confidantes saw her again.


	15. Chapter 15

**This is chapter 15 but it's NOT the same one that had been here before. I think we're finally on the right path and will stay in this direction until the end of the story. Have fun!**

'Come, Mr. Darcy, you must do it again.'

' _Pardon_?' Could she truly imagine him to have deemed himself entirely prepared to embark upon a new competence? He and Eldon Lucas had practiced this particular series a dozen -or perhaps two dozen - times, with nothing to be said of the numerous repetitions performed in the privacy of the tall gentleman's rooms, but it assuredly was not sufficient for him to consider himself proficient.

Panting, the gentleman said acerbically, 'Of a certainty I shall continue my drills, as I have but lately begun this particular technique. Was there a specific purpose to your visit or were you here merely to . . . . . _observe_?'

The maddening response to his query was a laugh, before Miss Elizabeth replied in an amused tone, 'You decline to lay claim to prowess? How unassuming of you, sir. I am quite relieved to hear that a gentleman of your station would wish to perfect the mastery of his craft but I do believe that you are already well aware of my opinion on this subject. For now, I am here to test you on your existing skills.' With a gesture of her hand, she wordlessly requested Eldon to move aside and she assumed his position opposite the Master of Pemberley.

Retaining one and handing Mr. Darcy the second of a pair of daggers clothed in singular and close-fitting sheaths, Elizabeth spread her arms. 'Mr. Darcy, please stab me.'

At his discomfited expression, she continued, 'Come, sir, you must utilize what you have learned, as can assuredly be said for any discipline. So I ask you again, stab me.' Her words changed as she spoke and went from an ironic playfulness to a resolute gravity. She was no longer standing in a relaxed pose; instead, she had adopted a pugnacious stance, covered dagger firmly in hand and sharp end pointed in his direction.

Perceiving that she was in earnest, he slashed forward with both reluctance, as well as strength, fully expecting a deal of unpleasantness, but she took a quick step back and blocked his movement with her forearm, while thrusting her own piece toward his shoulder. There was a moment of pain on impact, not quite what his cousin, the Colonel, had described from his own encounters with adversarial daggers, but not insignificant nonetheless.

He pulled back concerned and probed at his chest, but feeling no tear or hole and seeing no blood, he looked up at Elizabeth, deeply perplexed.

She took note of his confusion and said, 'Ah, you did not scrutinize the blades you have been using, sir? Our daggers which we utilize for training are sanded and blunted, then enclosed in a sheath that contains a padded leather tip. It might give a little pain but you will not be grievously injured and in time, you will become accustomed to the discomfort. Better than that, though, is to avoid the blade entirely and there should be no pain. You must perform well, for in quarters too close to use a sword, a dagger can be that which saves your life. It is vital that you have great adroitness with this weapon.'

Despite the gentleman's misgivings, Elizabeth soon brought him to the point of agreement and she began to draw out the lessons which he had learned. She drove at him, threatening the soft and delicate portions of his abdomen; he retaliated by pushing her arm away and stabbing at her shoulder - but was unable to complete his motion, as she had already changed her stance and shifted the blade to her other hand and was now slicing at his neck. They halted and separated, as Darcy was deemed 'dead' in this rapid but vigorous exercise.

Elizabeth resumed her aggressive posture; yet this time, she permitted him the initial attempt. He swung at her midriff with the hand holding the dagger but she averted his blow with her arm and quickly pushed Darcy's arm behind him, twisting it as she went. She butted her knee roughly into his thigh and he dropped to the floor.

As she held out the weapon which had been in his hand but moments before, Elizabeth remarked ironically, 'Mr. Darcy, I believe you are missing something.'

This was, in Darcy's opinion, entirely unacceptable.

It was now imperative that he disabuse Miss Elizabeth of her low opinion of his skills for he had, in fact, been practicing dutifully and was in no mood to accept either her scorn - or her imagined superiority. As a gentleman, he found it difficult to consider with any level of gravity fighting with a woman, even one of Miss Elizabeth's prodigious talents. But tolerate it he must, for he could not accomplish his purpose here without accepting - albeit grudgingly - the presence of females in their fighting force.

The gentleman stood with renewed energy and reclaimed his weapon, stretching his limbs and preparing himself for further exertion. As he announced, 'Let us resume,' he swung his blade arm toward her with a violent motion, shortening the arc with each pass until his dagger tip was tightly weaving in front of her torso. She moved to block his weapon and reached for his arm that was not occupied with threatening her. This time he was too quick for her and he rotated away, leaving her unable to catch hold of him. As he turned, he swiftly swept his blade toward her and felt triumphant to realize that he had struck her on her side. More rewarding than the strike, however, was the look of astonishment on her face on perceiving his victorious blow.

At Darcy's instigation and, perhaps, to prove his true facility, they again engaged. He focused his entire energies on their sparring, watching her movements even more closely, and found himself - to his immense relief and triumphant feelings - the victor a second time.

Elizabeth hesitated but then offered, 'You have now won twice in a row, Mr. Darcy. I applaud your remarkable and rapid improvement in skill. Would you care to resume your practice with Eldon and perhaps continue to increase your recent triumph?'

With a complacent smile, he bowed and riposted, 'My deepest thanks, madam, for your generous words. I likely will return another day for more work with the weapons but for now, it was my intention to be done and accompany you back to Longbourn, as I desire to speak with your esteemed parents.'

Acknowledging his comments, she bade Eldon farewell and departed, Mr. Darcy following closely behind. They walked in silence, neither troubling themselves to speak. The gentleman was glad of the quiet; he was better able to collect his thoughts for the upcoming interview, for he had an appeal to make and did not wish to be denied his petition.

'Let me understand you rightly, Mr. Darcy. You imagine yourself to be in enough of a state of readiness to join us on a mission and are seeking leave to do so. Is this indeed the substance of your request?' Mr. Bennet addressed the gentleman standing rigidly before his desk. Mrs. Bennet was seated to one side, listening silently.

Darcy replied, 'Yes, sir. As you are aware, I have been diligently observing and working with Miss Elizabeth and her fellow Watchers to learn those abilities necessary to ensure the success of a similar undertaking in my native Derbyshire. Therefore, it is with utmost confidence in my aptitude that I am here, appealing to you to permit my inclusion in the next foray.'

Mr. Bennet remained motionless and unspeaking, eyes upon his guest. With a glance at his wife, the Master of Longbourn inquired, 'I must ask, is this an attempt to prove to yourself the fullness of your knowledge, so you could take your leave of this neighborhood sooner than otherwise planned?'

Ah. He had not counted upon such quick comprehension of his motives but roused himself tolerably to try and turn their interest; he therefore answered, 'My desire is to further my own abilities with the added inducement of putting these newly acquired skills to use within a potentially mortal affair. This will, in its turn, permit me to be in a better position to properly organize and lead my own division.'

Mrs. Bennet observed, 'I have been following your progress through reports by those tasked with your training and am satisfied that you have grasped many of the disciplines of combat. However, there is a great deal more to the operation of such a group than simply mastering the techniques of fighting. One of the most vital elements to success is precisely the one that, I imagine, you would find most distasteful, but without the usage of this offensive agent, none of what we seek to accomplish would be done.'

At the puzzlement upon his face, she clarified, 'Gossip, Mr. Darcy. Talk. Speculation. The idle speech that decorates equally every location where people congregate, be it in a tavern or a duchess's drawing room. We have been gradually increasing our connections and reach for these past ten years, seeking at first solely to know of those who might be crossing our borders with ill intent and then to remove from harm's way any innocents. Unfortunately, we have found, as you can apprehend, that to only avoid trouble is not enough; to _prevent_ it is far superior. Nevertheless, both are an absolute necessity. Can you boast a vast network of collectors of rumors? To be capable of repelling any attack is laudable; to know of an attack prior to its start is what must be done. Do you have access to those who know what is to happen before it does, those who hear hints and whispers? Can you in truth call yourself entirely prepared to begin?'

Mr. Darcy stood, if possible for such a tall man, even taller and responded, 'My cousin the Colonel, who recommended your group as an exemplar of a well-run organization, has a vast system of well-connected - but not necessarily reputable - individuals. With their assistance, I believe that we shall be in a position to unite the training you have presented with what information gathering sources I have and birth a safer Derbyshire. With that as an objective, I again ask of you to permit my attendance at an upcoming undertaking.'

He watched with interest as Mr. and Mrs. Bennet held the other's eyes for a full half a minute, neither revealing the slightest emotion. Despite this seeming indecipherability, a consensus appeared to have been reached and the seated gentleman returned his attention to the visitor. 'You may, Mr. Darcy. However, sir, you _will_ remain at all times in the close company of Eldon and my daughter Elizabeth. If you are separated from one, you will stay with the other. As to the actual skirmish, I must insist upon your withdrawal from the field of combat. It is a matter of your safety and your life, for which _we_ are responsible whilst you are our guest. Are you in agreement with these terms?'

Vexatious ultimatum notwithstanding, his design was answered for now and Mr. Darcy assented graciously.

The much-awaited summons had come several days later in the innocuous form of a short note from Mr. Bennet, reminding him of their plans to meet that evening. Both time and location for the rendezvous had been arranged beforehand, leaving Mr. Darcy with little more to do than to excuse himself to Bingley for yet again forsaking his host, carefully dress in the set-aside suit of his darkest clothing and then - to do nothing in the blackness, watching and waiting with tense impatience.

At precisely half past the hour, he at long last noticed shadowy shapes coalescing in the near distance; excited, the gentleman rode across the lawn to join them but slowed when the figures began to resemble people, remembering the instructions given him by Mr. Bennet. It would not do to forget himself at the outset and neglect to give the sign of identification.

Two hooded riders awaited him, acknowledging his gesture with silent nods and, with a wave from one of the individuals, they rode off, unspeaking, their hoofbeats causing ripples in the stillness. Within a very short span, Darcy found himself once again entering the ostensibly unused barn on Longbourn's property. Mrs. Bennet stood, expectant but unsmiling, at the head of a black-clad group, waiting for their trio to enter.

She nodded at him before saying in a voice loud enough to be heard only by those around her, 'Very well, everyone has now arrived. You have likely noticed an increase of late in the villainy in our area and we have continued to strike at those responsible for such. Tonight is no different. I will, however, apprise you that we are even now planning an attempt to stop their brigandry definitively, with the possibility that we will stepping over our county's borders in order to permanently halt their criminal activities.

For the moment, we shall continue as we have been; however, I warn you to remain on your guard moreso even than your wont for I have been apprised that our enemy is becoming aware of our presence, which lends an added layer of danger to this night's mission. You will be riding near Elstree to Aldenham House, where there is to be a theft and the potential for loss of life. Intercept and stop them with caution. Be aware that Mr. Darcy will be riding with you as an observer and he will remain well back from your point of attack. Elizabeth and Eldon will be watching over him. Ride safely!'

During a lengthy ride that tested Darcy's horsemanship and would have strained greatly a lesser rider, he had to concentrate to follow the two escorting him closely, for it was obvious that the way was known to both of his companions but Darcy had not spent his formative years in Hertfordshire and only knew portions of Derbyshire with the level of familiarity that these two evinced. They soon eased their pace and began to use greater caution in their choice of route, as if they were uncertain of what precisely was before them, hiding behind the black curtain of night. He listened assiduously for evidence of others - perhaps the sounds of conflict - to ascertain if they were in fact approaching their destination.

Then, of a sudden, they stopped. One of the figures soundlessly held out their hand as a signal for him to remain in place, to stay at a secure distance from the actual danger of combat, away from the thrust and swish and stab. The other person rode ahead to where Darcy presumed more of the Watchers were noiselessly lying in wait, biding time until their quarry appeared.

He waited. As the minutes passed slowly, he listened to the stamping and huffing of the horses, the chirruping of crickets and the crinkle of dried leaves being lightly blown about. The longer he sat and waited, the more he could discern: the hoot of an owl as it soundlessly slid through the air in pursuit of sustenance; the far-off bark of a lone dog. Ah, a new sound - voices, men's voices. Was it a group of neighbors at last come home from wherever they had gathered or could it possibly be -

His escort tapped him upon the arm, indicating that their purpose in this place was now in motion and, as he nodded his understanding, there was a crash of metal against metal and the grunts of straining fighters. An abrupt cry of pain came and alarm began to build within his breast, a fear and concern for those who put themselves willingly in the way of the sharp end of a sword to ensure the security and peace of a region. It became agonizingly apparent to him, as never before, the magnitude of the burden taken on voluntarily by the Watchers and the nature of what he might expect to encounter, if he followed his present course.

To ascertain his safety - and uphold his promise to the Bennets - he cautiously brought his horse a few steps further from the sounds of combat. Curiosity and the instincts of Pemberley's Master, a man accustomed to seeing to a plethora of often complex details, began to surface. What was the average length of time of an encounter? What was considered an acceptable ratio of Watchers to the rumored number of enemies? More questions that necessitated explanation by the Bennets came to him and he commenced to make a list in his mind of items which he wished to ask of them, while maintaining an external vigilance.

The reality of his new endeavor started to emerge and he found it exhilarating to have something of such importance to focus all his energies upon, rather than the morass of helplessness into which he had fallen after Ramsgate.

It appeared that all was well in hand, from the cautious but not overly alarmed attitude of his escorts, thus, Darcy surmised that they would soon embark upon their return journey. With this in mind, he began to relax his surveillance of the surroundings and to wonder how he might find his way covertly through Netherfield back to his apartment. In short order, he was given the signal to turn about and the three prepared to leave, with the dread expectation of deadly conflict absent from their attitudes.

As they started to move forward, he heard Eldon break the heavy silence and comment something to the person he now knew to be Elizabeth. She rotated her head to reply and, at that moment, there was a wild shout from behind them of caution. There was another who had been hidden and now pursued them.

Elizabeth turned her mount, waving Eldon and Mr. Darcy to hurry to safety, when the Derbyshire gentleman felt pressure, then a shocking, excruciating heat burning his leg. He grabbed desperately at his mount's neck for stability, the pain steadily growing until it was the only thing on which he could focus.

 **Ba-dum-bum! :)**


End file.
